Delirium
by ReaperRain
Summary: Chazz finally snaps and attacks his brothers, and his sanity is questioned as a result. Sent off to an asylum, how will he cope wth hallucinations and hidden evils? Contains violence and abuse. Eventual ChazzJaden.
1. Exordium

I'm baaaack...

Yep, my exams are all over now, so I can get back to doing what I love - writing fanfiction! But I figured I'd take a break from my usual anikishipping to do a Chazz-centric story, since he's my new-favourite character. And note, people, that I am not a doctor. I did a helluva lot of research into mental illness for this, and I've tried to write it as realistically as possible, but I'm by no means an expert.

**Warnings: **Chazz may be a little OOC in this. Why? Because in the show, Chazz is used as a comedy character with an extremist personality that's not entirely suitable for such a serious story. I'll try to keep him as in-character as possibly but it might not always work.

Also, this story contains quite a bit of **swearing** (hey, the language needs to reflect the tone of the story), **abuse **on _all _levels, **violence**and, obviously, **angst**. There may also be some Chazz/Jaden waaaay later on, although it won't be a major thing. This isn't really a romance story. I think that's all the warnings you'll need for now, although I'll remind you each chapter if it contains anything warning-worthy. Remember people: it's rated M for a reason.

Of _course_ I don't own Yugioh GX, silly. If I owned Yugioh GX, believe me, _you'd know_.

* * *

Delirium, part one (exordium)

"You loser!" Slade yells at me. "You _dog!_"

I know, I think from the floor. I know, I'm sorry, it won't happen again.

"You've disgraced yourself. You disgraced the Princeton name." He hisses, and I feel my chest hurt as though someone twisted a knife there. My entire body is trembling, hands and knees struggling to support me.

"You are no brother of ours anymore." Jagger adds, looking down on me without sympathy. My mouth opens. It takes what feels like forever for the words to come out.

"Just give me..." I manage to say weakly. "...Another chance..."

"Another chance?!" Jagger shouts, and I flinch at his tone. "Do you know how much we spent on this duel?!"

"The cameras! The rare cards!" Slade finishes, just as angry. "None of which you _used_, I might add!"

"Sorry." I whisper brokenly. "I thought I could win this by myself."

"Yourself?!" And at that moment, I feel myself being yanked from the floor to meet Jagger's furious face. My cards slip loosely from my hands and fall to the floor soundlessly.

"When could you do _anything_ by yourself, Chazz?" Slade snaps. He's just about to say something else, when-

"Let him go." Jaden's voice. My brothers pause to stare at him. I close my eyes and grimace - for the love of God, Jaden, don't challenge them. You don't know what they're like, you don't know what they can _do_...

"Yeah, sure he lost," Jaden continues bravely, or stupidly. Probably the latter. "But how could he not with you two jerks breathing down his neck?"

I gasp. Oh no, Jaden did not just say that, he did _not_ just say that...

"Two jerks?" Jagger repeats slowly; I feel his hands unconsciously tighten on the collar of my jacket. "Do you have any idea who we are? We could have you crushed, kid."

"Why defend Chazz anyhow? He's a nobody now!" Slade says whilst Jagger turns his attentions back to me, and I turn my head to avoid his fierce gaze. "Disowned by us, and by the whole world. I mean, the cameras caught enough of it! He got schooled! He got mopped off!"

I hear a slight growl from Jaden. No, slacker, just leave it, don't do anything stupid, even by your standards...

"That's right," Jagger leans towards me threateningly. "And then worst of all, he got beat!"

"Wrong - there's one fight he did win. The fight...against you two." Jaden lifts his head, and there's nothing but determination in his eyes, nothing but strength and courage.

He evidently knows nothing about my brothers.

"Sure, Chazz may not have won, but hey, at least he fought it on his own terms." The slacker continues. "It's like he said: he used his cards, not what your money could buy!"

Jagger and Slade have had enough of me; one shove backwards and I'm stumbling on my feet. When Jaden next speaks, his voice is warm:

"Tight duel, Chazz. And I know it's cheesy, but I think we both won here."

"You're just saying that." I bite out, turning away from Jagger and Slade. They're right, of course. They're _always_ right. "I mean...come on. No-one else believes that."

My eyes are stinging...no, I can't cry! Crying is showing weakness, and I'm not weak. I can't...I can't appear weak in front of everyone...I have to...

Before I know it, the duel disk slips from my arm and crashes to the floor, along with the remainder of my cards. And my feet are running towards the exit.

"Chazz!" I hear Jaden's calls, his footsteps behind me. I quicken my pace. "Chazz, wait up!" I skid around the corner and into one of the gym rooms, slamming the door shut. I can't face Jaden now, not after...after everything...

Of course, someone finds me eventually. But it isn't slacker, or anybody from Duel Academy, or anybody from North Academy. It's much worse.

"Well look what we have here." Jagger snarls. "Trying to cower away in the corner, were you?"

"I h-haven't..." I try to speak. My breath comes out in convulsing gasps. Not that I've been crying or anything.

"Your eyes are all red," Slade sneers from the doorway. Both of them. With me. In this room. And no-one watching. "Were you crying?"

"N-no." I gasp. The sound of a sharp smack fills the room.

"Don't lie," Jagger hisses, pulling his hand back. "We raised you better than that, Chazz. You hear that? _We_ raised you. And after everything we've done, this is how you repay us?!"

"I-"

"Shut up!" I stumble against the lockers, back hitting metal with a clash. "You're nothing but a weak, worthless, good-for-nothing slacker who can't even fulfill his part of the plan." Jagger hisses. "You remember that, Chazz? The plan? The one we put so much time and effort into before you had to go and screw things up?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean-"

"Shut up. You have no right to speak." Slade says softly, arms folded casually across his chest. He doesn't look or sound nearly as angry as Jagger...but when it comes to Slade, that probably isn't a good thing. "You made a promise and you broke it."

My throat closes and the world blurs before me. No! Don't cry, won't cry, can't cry...

"And as I recall, I made another promise too," Jagger cracks his knuckles. I swallow nervously. "A promise of what would happen if you didn't hold up your end of the bargain, remember?"

I feel light-headed. "Yes." I utter hoarsely.

"Good." He takes a step towards me. "Then let's begin."

* * *

Hmm...1132.

That's how many tiles there are on the ceiling of the locker rooms. Or was it 1131? No wait, there's 12. Hold on, if 12 - 1131 + J32 squared equals...equals...ah, forget it. Math is Bastion's thing. Who's Bastion again? Oh yes, I remember, blue hair and grey eyes. No wait, that's Zane. Or is it Syrus? They look alike. They're brothers, you know.

Brothers...

I had a dream that my brothers were here, and they saw me duel Jaden, and I lost, and I ran away, and they came after me, and I can't remember what happened after that. That must be how I got here on this...?

Ah, it's a bench. I can feel the wood underneath my fingers. Rough wood and cold metal and...what's that? Ew, it's chewing gum! Germsgermsgerms! The level of hygiene in this school is appalling- hey, a mirror. What's a mirror doing here? Oh wait, this is a locker room. But that still doesn't explain why they have a mirror.

I walk up to the mirror. Do you ever wonder if maybe the reflection in the mirror is actually the _real_ you, and you're just the reflection? Me neither. Maybe they're two different people who happen to look the same. Almost. Like, that Chazz looks all roughed up, and his hair is all over the place, and one of his cheeks is all red...

...Wait a minute.

Jagger. Slade. Hit. Hurt. Ow.

It wasn't a dream, was it?

I tug down the high neck of my jumper, and see the ugly purple bruising forming there from what I'm sure is a fist. Or a foot. And there's red marks on my wrist...and my arms...and my legs...everywhere except my face. They never hit my face. Except...no. Only Jagger does that, not Slade. He doesn't need to. He just _looks_ at me, and it's enough. And he was standing...

At the doorway. I run there; the door is still closed. And then they went down the corridor. I can still see the silver footprints on the ground, which I follow...and follow...and then I'm outside, and the sky is green. No wait, that's the grass. The sky is _blue_, and full of clouds that taste like candyfloss.

There they are, at the docks, getting ready to board their helicopter. Helicopter. Like helter-skelter, which is a big long slide where you go around and around and around and around...

Wait, helicopter sounds nothing like helter-skelter.

Oh, and Jaden is there! I like Jaden, but he's too noisy. And lazy. And stupid. And cheerful. Come to think of it, I don't like him all that much. But he's yelling at Jagger over the noise of the helter- I mean, helicopter.

"What did you do with Chazz?" He shouts. Silly boy, you shouldn't shout at them, they'll kill you.

"We haven't done anything to him, now get lost, kid!" Slade calls back. Only he's lying...and Slade told me not to lie, that it's bad and you'll get punished if you do. But he's lying right now, isn't he? Does that mean it's okay?

"I know what you do to him!" Jaden points a finger. Point. It's rude to point. That's why I do it all the time. "You hurt him! I know you do!"

"_Hurt_ him? Now why would we hurt Chazz?" Jagger answers, a face of mock-surprise. "Sure, he's a loser, but he isn't a _punchbag_. Now stop talking about things you know nothing about." There's just a hint of a threat in his smile. Because Jaden knows. He _knows_. He knows too much and they're trying to shut him up. But what if they hurt him? I can't let that happen!

"Don't!" I cry, running up to them. Everyone turns to face me. Slade's eyes widen a fraction of an inch. He didn't expect me to turn up here.

"See? Chazz is perfectly fine, just hiding like the little weakling he is," Jagger says smugly. "Nothing to worry about."

"Chazz?" Syrus says nervously. "Are you...are you alright? You were gone for a while...and you look as though you've been crying."

"Never!" I snap, and everyone flinches. "I don't cry." I tell them. They should know that by now. Heehee. Heeheehee.

"Chazz, why are you laughing?" Bastion asks, looking a little unsettled. Why would he be unsettled? That makes no sense. I need to ask him how many tiles there are on the locker-room ceiling.

"I don't cry. I never cry. To cry is to show weakness, and I'm not weak, you see?" I laugh again. Everyone glances at each other uncomfortably, even my brothers. My brothers always said to me that crying never solved anything - if you have problem, you eliminate them at the source.

But the source of my problems...is my brothers.

And suddenly I see spots of red, like scarlet rain on a window, spattering my vision. They grow larger, spreading like a disease until everything is tinted by glorious crimson. I feel my fingers twitch, tighten, form a fist, nails digging into my palm.

_"Chazz?"_ Jaden asks. His voice is so distant, so echoed. _"What's wrong, buddy?"_

The world blurs as I turn my head. Jagger is in front of me, but he's not red. I can see the paleness of his skin, the lustre of his black hair, the uncertainty in his grey eyes as he observes me observing him. But why isn't he red? I have to make him fit in, make him conform...make him red.

I can't recall who screams first: me jumping him, or him being jumped. But he's on the floor beneath me, and for once it's _my_ fists that are doing all the damage.

"I hate you!" Someone sobs; I think it's me. "I fucking _hate_ you!"

The first dash of red appears on Jagger's cheek - see, it's working, he's becoming - but someone grabs my shoulder, pulls me back harshly.

_"Security!"_ Slade calls as he tries to restrain me, fails. His voice is poisoned from lying about me, about what they did to me. Have to get rid of the lies...Slade's voice becomes louder, more panicked as I try to claw his throat: _"SECURITY! Someone get him off me!"_

Out of the corner of my eye, Jaden steps forwards - whether to help or hinder me, I don't know - but Syrus holds him back. Slade keeps calling until I sink my teeth into his neck, and don't stop until there's liquid warmth. He gasps and stumbles back whilst I turn around to face Jagger, who looks up at me with wide eyes.

_"You're crazy..." _He whispers. Me, crazy? Now _that's_ funny. Heeheehee.

And then there's hands, hands that seize my limbs and drag me back. I fight and struggle and scream, but it's no use, and my arm is twisted behind my back.

_"Call the police!"_ A male voice says. Campus security. I snarl and thrash and bite, but they don't let go. Why won't they let go?!

_"Fuck, he's strong..."_ Another guard grunts when I kick him, but his grip doesn't loosen. _"He'll break his arms if he keeps struggling like this."_

Break. To break. Breaked? No, broken. I break, therefore I am broken. What?

_"What the hell is he saying? It doesn't make any sense."_

_"We need to sedate him. He isn't going to calm down anytime soon, and the police can't be here for at least ten minutes."_

_"Alright. Hold him still..."_

A sharp jab in my neck. Injection? But I feel fine. It didn't work! It had no effect! I'm invincible! I'm...

...Getting _really_ tired. The red is getting darker...and darker...and darker...and darker...and d-

* * *

_"Jaden Yuki, you were present when Charles Princeton attacked his older brothers, correct?"_

_"Charles? Oh, Chazz. Um, yes, I was."_

_"Can you tell us what happened?"_

The world blurs before me. Darkness. Light floods in through a barred window on the door.

_"Well, Chazz had just lost a game of Duel Monsters against me, and his brothers came up to him and started shouting at him and stuff."_ A pause. _"He ran off, I followed him, but I couldn't find him anywhere. Finally I reached the harbour where Chazz's brothers were getting ready to leave the island. Syrus and Bastion were there too..."_

I sit up. Where am I? A small holding cell or something. Metal painted cream...it's cold. Really cold.

_"So I ran up to the brothers and asked them if they'd done anything with Chazz. Well, I had to shout over the noise of the helicopter..."_

_"So you believe Jagger and Slade may have harmed Charles?"_

_"I think so. The way they were yelling at him earlier...they hurt him, I know they did. And I bet it isn't the first time they've done it either."_

Those voices...it's Jaden. And two people I don't recognise. He's being interviewed? For a job? No, wait...this is a police station. I'm in a prison cell.

_"What happened after that?"_

_"Well, then Chazz appeared, only he looked...different."_

_"Different?"_ A female voice.

_"He was all roughed up for a start, his hair was messy and one of his cheeks was all red - plus his eyes were all puffy, like he'd been crying..."_ The sound of someone shifting uncomfortably in their seat. _"But there was something else too...his eyes looked - I dunno, __wild__ somehow. I can't really describe it."_

Crying? I wasn't crying! I don't cry, dammit! I walk up to the door and strain to hear the voices coming down the corridor.

_"So Sy asked him if he'd been crying and he went 'never!' like, really loud. Then he just started laughing."_

_"Do you know why?"_

_"..."_ He's either nodding or shaking his head, probably the latter. _"But he was laughing sort of...__manically__ for a few minutes, and then he suddenly stopped, like he was thinking about something. Then he turned around and looked at Jagger..."_

Hm, so they're talking about me? It's rude to talk about someone behind their back, you know. Although I don't actually have my back to them...

_"So he was silent for about a minute, and I asked him what was wrong, and then he...he..."_ Another uncomfortable shuffle. _"He just __screamed__ and jumped onto Jagger, then started hitting him and saying he hated him. Slade ran over and pulled him off, then Chazz tried to scratch him or something."_

_"Didn't anyone try and help him?"_

_"Well it just happened so __fast__...I tried to step in, although I didn't really know what to do, but Sy pulled me back because he was scared I'd get hurt, I guess."_

When did this actually happen? I can't recall...it's _there_, but it all seems so blurry...I try to grab the memory in front of me. It slips through my fingers like grains of sand.

_"And suddenly he...well, he __bit__ him. Slade, that is. When he pulled away there was - there was red all over his mouth and-"_ Jaden's voice gets higher and hoarser. I can almost picture him trembling in his seat, gripping the table with his knuckles going white. Poor guy...wait a second, don't I hate him?

_"It's alright, take your time."_

Deep, calming breaths. _"He started laughing again, really loud, hysterical. Then he lunged for Jagger. I thought - I thought he was gonna kill him..."_ A shaky sigh. _"Then security turned up and hauled him away, but he was still screaming and fighting until they injected him with something. Then he went all still and quiet."_

_"...Alright. Thank you for your co-operation, Mr Yuki, that's all we'll require from you."_

_"So I can go home now?"_

_"That would be wise, yes. We'll be offering counseling to everyone who witnessed the attack, of course, but until then I'd advise you get some rest."_

_"Okay...goodbye."_

Footsteps lead in one direction, getting fainter until they're non-existent. But then there's more footsteps, two people, and they're heading towards _me_. I settle myself on the cold painted bench as the door opens and the room is flooded with light.

_"Ah, Mr Princeton, you're awake." _Speaks the woman-shaped silhouette against the frame of white light. _"We'll need to interview you on events concerning your brothers, Jagger and Slade."_

"I know." I whisper, tying and untying my shoelaces repetitively. The shadows in the doorway glance at each other.

_"If you'd like to come with us, Mr Princeton..."_

I finish with my shoes and get up to follow them to the interview room. The chair is still warm from where Jaden sat in it. I can see imprints of moisture where he gripped the arms. He must've been nervous. Or maybe just warm.

_"You've been arrested on charges of attempted murder of both your older brothers, Slade and Jagger Princeton."_ The male begins. _Attempted_ murder, you say? That means they're not dead...I'll have to try harder next time. _"There's no point in denying it; we have plenty of witnesses. What we want to know is __why__."_

"Why not?" I answer, noticing a tape recorder on the table next to the woman and watching the reels spin slowly. So they're recording this... "They came after me because I lost...so I came after them as well. It's only fair."

_"You think your actions were fair? You think biting into someone's neck and drawing blood is fair?"_

They make me sound like a vampire. I laugh. I suppose I look enough like one, don't I? My skin is pale enough to pass for dead after all.

The man and woman glance at each other. _"We fail to see what is so amusing, Mr Princeton."_

"Nothing." I say briskly. It's _my_ joke. They can't have it. "And yes, my actions were fair. It was in self-defense."

_"Witnesses say the attack was unprovoked."_

"'Witnesses' haven't spent 15 years with my brothers." I point out. "They hit me. They've done it before and doubtless they'd do it again. I was just taking the necessary measures to prevent that from occurring."

_"I'm afraid there isn't sufficient evidence to support your claims, Mr Princeton."_

"You've seen the bruises." I tug down the high collar of my jumper to reveal the now-fading purple bruise on my collarbone.

_"We've seen __some__ bruises. Not enough to be the result of a beating, as you claim."_ The female tells me. _"There is neither solid evidence nor any witnesses to the alleged abuse-"_

"Of course there isn't." I interrupt her. "You think Jagger would be stupid enough to leave heavy bruising? Or hit me in front of other people?" I pause. "Except Slade. He hits me in front of him."

_"Mr Slade Princeton is in the hospital, thanks to you. Not a very good idea to attack your only witness."_

"He would have denied it anyway." I shrug. "He's in the hospital, you say? Oh good. I hope he dies."

_"You'd want your brother to die?"_

"Haven't we been over this?" I raise an eyebrow. "Slade deserves everything he gets. So does Jagger. Is he in the hospital as well?"

_"If they __are__ hitting you, why haven't you told anyone about it before?"_ The male asks, ignoring my question. I sigh and lean back.

"_Because_, genius, just like you, they wouldn't believe me. Jagger and Slade can lie their way out of any situation, or use _other_ methods should that fail." I tap my nose. Not entirely sure why. "Money buys you privacy, or it buys you a few grunts to follow through with threats, if necessary. No mess, no fuss, no risk of getting caught. But their hands are no cleaner than mine."

_"Do you have any proof of these claims?"_

"Obviously not, they're more careful than that. But I haven't told anyone what they do to me, so no-one's been put at risk." I smile at the both of them, those two silhouettes. "Of course, I've just told you two, haven't I? I would be careful from now on if I were you. You never know what's lurking around the corner."

My lips are sealed; I say no more. After unsuccessfully trying to get me to answer a few more questions, the pair give up and announce an end to the interview. I'm led back to my cell, the door is shut and locked, and then there's only silence.

* * *

She sells seashells by the seashore. The shells she shells - I mean, _sells_ - are surely sheashells - wait, _sea_shells. So if she _sells shells_ on the _seashore_, I'm sure see shells shesore shells- no, hold on, it's...dammit.

_"So what are we going to do with him?"_

Okay, let's try this again: she sells seashells- hold on, they're talking about me again.

_"There isn't much point in taking him to court, since he already confessed...we just need to decide his sentence."_

_"Should he go to jail, though?"_

_"He tried to __murder__ his two brothers in cold blood. Where else would he go?"_

_"But what if it wasn't in cold blood? Supposing his brothers beat him up-"_

_"Don't tell me you actually believe his stories." _My eyes narrow at that. Stories, are they? See, this is why I never told anyone before - because this is exactly what they'd say. They wouldn't believe me. _No-one_ believes me. _"Sure, he has a few bruises and cuts, but nothing to suggest-"_

_"But supposing they __did__ beat him up."_ The female voice interrupts. _"What if it did something to him? As in, mentally?"_

_"You think he wasn't in his normal state of mind when he attacked his brothers?"_

_"I'm certain. All the witnesses confirm Charles was acting as his normal self before his brief disappearance. Then when he came back...well, you don't just attack someone for no reason. There was obviously something wrong."_

Wrong? There's nothing wrong with me! Although, how do you define 'wrong'? 'Not right', I suppose, but what it 'right'? Right is the opposite of left...although right and left aren't definite terms. I mean, if you face one way, left and right are certain directions. But if you face the opposite way, so do they. So which one could be called 'right' and 'left'?

Hm...I sound like Bastion.

_"So what do you think caused the...mental disturbance?"_

_"I'm not sure about his claims of abuse, but even so I'd like to investigate the older brothers further...but I've heard some mental illness can blur the line between reality and hallucination, even so far as to create false memories..."_

Wait, wait, wait. Wait. _What?_

_"...Which could explain his claims about his brothers, and thus his actions against him. It's a complicated matter, but we shouldn't rule it out as a possibility."_

_"Some medical tests may be in order...but supposing he __does__ have mental illness...then what? We can't just let him off without charges..."_

_"Well I was thinking...what about Pandora?"_

Pandora? Who is she? What's going on?

_"Pandora?"_ A low whistle of disbelief. _"That's just...you sure about that?"_

_"It's for the most serious cases, and I would call this pretty serious. I think it's the best place to rehabilitate him."_

Wait...Pandora is a place? What _sort_ of place? 'Rehabilitate'...some sort of detention centre?

_"According to Duel Academy security, he was struggling to escape so hard he almost snapped his arms in half, and he had to be sedated with twice the normal dosage..."_ A hushed whisper. _"If he can do __that__...well, he'll need to be under maximum security. And Pandora is inescapable."_

_"Hn, I guess you're right. We'll run some tests, and if they're conclusive...we'll send him off to Pandora."_

The footsteps lead away, voices fading along with them. I slowly make my way back to the small bench in my cell and land on it with a _thud_. So they're sending me away...to prison or to this 'Pandora'. But what _is_ it exactly? Some sort of fortress? A medical place? A rest home?

I shiver suddenly, the cold seeping through my jacket and poisoning my skin, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. 'Pandora'...whatever it is, it's bad news.

* * *

(Winces) It wasn't _that_ OOC, was it? Okay, so it was. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but I can't seem to improve it, and I'm impatient to get on with the story. The next chapter will be more interesting, I promise! Oh and also, I know the police thing wasn't strictly correct...Chazz probably should have been taken to court, and in the original version he was, but it didn't read that well on paper, so I skipped it.

So, aside from the OOC-ness and overuse of italics, was it any good? Please let me know in a review - constructive criticism is gratefully accepted, and I'll take into account any suggestions to improve my writing, the chapter or the story itself. Feed the writer confidence! She really needs it!


	2. Achromatic

I'm still quite concerned about how un-Chazz-like Chazz may be...he's a little less crazified in this chapter, but for those who enjoy insane!Chazz, don't worry: he'll be making a comeback soon enough. Oh, and note this chapter is considerably shorter than the last one - sorry about that, I tried my best to lengthen it, but this was as much as I could do.

Now, the **warnings** for this chapter: um, quite tame actually. Implied **violence**, kind-of-scary **hallucinations**, use of **drugs**, and some **swearing**, especially the F word. Nothing too graphic though, so you should be alright. Now, the review replies:

**ac-the-brain-supreme: **Thank you! And huzzah for random cat noises!

**Littlest-Angel: **However you put it, it's still OOC. (sighs) I'm going to try my best to keep him in-character, but it might not always work. And yes, Chazz's brothers are _very_ evil - since the story is from his POV, they're probably made out to be more evil than they actually are...if that's possible.

**Three question marks: **Wow, really? Thank you! I feel all happy now...

**sasukemyemo394: **Alas, the law does not see things as you do. Thank you for the comment!

**ZomBRI: **Muahaha...I love writing insane!Jun, it's so much fun to do (he's pretty much the same in my other fic, 'Desert Rain'). Although I can't really imagine Jun going 'heeheehee', I think it'd be quite creepy. Oh and I quite like Jun's brothers as well...I mean, _someone_ has to be the villain, and they play the role perfectly.

**CrazyFaucet:** Hey, thanks! I'm glad you thought it worked well. But I'm going to try and get Chazz back his jerky self as well in this chapter.

Nope, I don't own Yugioh GX. But I _do_ own Pandora, Adams and this plotline, so there, you can't steal it now.

* * *

Delirium, part two (achromatic)

A mental institution.

A fucking _mental institution_.

The sign flashes past in bold lettering: PANDORA PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL. They're throwing me in a damn loony bin. But I don't belong there! That place is for crazy people! Do I look crazy to you? Do I?!

Glancing through the tinted windows of the police van, I can see the smooth, plain walls of the Pandora building. They're white, _too_ white, almost painful to look at. Why do they need the walls so white anyway? Beyond the white, white walls there's only grey tarmac and concrete, where guards in white uniforms parade around in search for anything unusual. I can see tall wooden watchtowers, like lighthouses, that'll cast sweeping searchlights when it gets dark enough. Barbed wire fences, razor sharp...the silhouettes were right: this place looks inescapable.

The van drives through the concrete sea and up to an entrance at the side of the building. The doors to the back of the van open, revealing two police officers and two white-uniformed guards. They frown when they see me.

"That's him?" One asks a police officer; I might as well not be there, the way they're talking about me. "But he's just a kid."

A _kid?!_ How dare they. I'm almost old enough to have sex legally.

"Don't be fooled; he's stronger than he looks." The officer informs him. "Took an hour to put those handcuffs on him, and another hour to get him to stop screaming. Here's his status report for the medics." He hands him a collection of papers.

I frown: screaming? I don't remember that. When was I screaming?

"Alright then. If you'd like to come this way, sir." The men in white pull me out of the van and lead me, handcuffed, towards the huge, square structure of the building. From the corner of my eye I see the police van retreat back through the guarded gates, back to Domino, I suppose. The guards lead me through the doorway and down white corridors, and none too gently at that.

"Hey, watch it!" I say. I may be a prisoner, I may be an attempted-murderer, but hell if I'm a damned _dog_.

"Quiet, kid." One of the guards tells me sternly. I snarl.

"I'm not a kid! I'm eleventy-five, I shall have you know, and I demand to be treated with respect!" They ignore me; that's even worse. "And I won't be ignored either. Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

This continues all the way down the corridor until we reach a small room, white as the rest of the building, the harsh lighting burning my eyes. Oww, that hurts. They undo the handcuffs and push me forwards into the middle of the room.

"Right, take off your clothes." The other guards instructs me. My eyes widen, despite the bright lights.

"_What_?!"

"We need to do a strip search for dangerous items, so strip." He orders. I shake my head furiously.

"No!"

The first guard sneers at me. "Look kid, if you're going to be difficult, we'll have to use force. Take off your clothes, or we'll take them off for you."

I swallow nervously - since I don't particularly like the sound of that last option, I grit my teeth and shrug off my jacket and jumper. My hands pause on the buttons of my shirt.

"Well, turn around then." I point out.

"We can't," The second guard says, bored. "You might escape."

"What? No I won't-"

"-Said every other person, who then tried to escape." The second guard cuts me off. My eyes narrow: _no-one_ cuts off The Chazz and gets away with it. "You don't get privacy here, so you might as well get used to it, now hurry up and undress."

I curse under my breath, but continue undressing until I'm down to the red Ojama-pattern boxers Jaden got me for my birthday. Gah, why did all my _nice_ boxers have to be in the wash that day? Why does this stuff always happen to me? And...and why the heck did Jaden get me _underwear_ for my birthday?!

"And the boxers." The second guard points out.

"No," I answer sharply, face flaming as red as said undergarments. "Absolutely not."

"Kid..." The first guard threatens. I shake my head again.

"I don't care, I'm not taking them off!"

"Then we do this the hard way." He grabs my arm unexpectedly and twists it behind my back. I yell and struggle, then let out an involuntary shriek as the second guard yanks my last shred of dignity down to my ankles.

"Get off me! GET OFF ME! GETOFFGETOFFGETOFFGETOFF-" I shout, thrashing for all I'm worth. The second guard ignores me and then starts calmly putting on an elastic glove.

Oh no.

Oh _hell_ no.

* * *

White...

So much white...where am I?

The white sharpens, becomes walls, ceiling and floor. I lift my head, but a swarm of dizziness overcomes me, and I fall back onto the pillow, swallowing back my nausea. So tired...so very tired...I could sleep forever. Wait, sleep forever? That's...it's not...it is!

Holy fuck, am I in heaven?

It _feels_ like it might be heaven. No noise. Comfortable temperature. Not a Slifer slacker in sight. A little too _white_ for my liking...maybe I'll ask whoever's in charge here if I can redecorate. It's not bad, I suppose. I'd give it a seven out of ten.

No window either. Do they have builders in heaven? I'll go ask...wait, why can't I move? My arms won't budge...what's that holding me down? I'm on a bed...fuck, I'm _tied_ to the bed! The hell?! What's going on?!

"Ngh...no! Get off!" I cry, struggling against the wide leather straps that bind me down. But they won't let go...please, let me go!

_Get out,_ says a deathly, whispered voice. _Leave this place._

"Who's there?" I call out, looking around nervously - but there's no-one else in the room. And then I realise, with a sickening jolt, that it _is_ the room, that the building itself is talking to me.

_You do not belong here,_ The shadows twist and writhe across the floor, up the walls, meeting in the corner and forming a lizard-like creature. It crawls menacingly across the ceiling until it's directly above me and opens it's mouth to reveal sharp, spiky teeth. _You must leave!_

"Go away!" I yell. "Leave me alone!"

I'm answered with angry whispers that burn by ears and blacken my vision. Faintly, I hear the door open, and cool hands brush ebony locks of hair aside to rest on my forehead.

_"Charles?"_ His voice sounds so far-away, and yet it hurts my ears as though he were shouting. _"Can you hear me?"_

"Make it stop!" I plead him, body thrashing and twisting on the bed. "Make it go away!"

_"Make what go away, Charles?"_

"_It!_ Up there!" I glance at the ceiling. The shadows snap inches away from my face, and I scream.

_"Charles..."_ The voice is ever patient, ever calm. Why isn't he afraid? Can't he see it? _"There's nothing there."_

"What?" I open my eyes again - the shadows are still there, extending a clawed arm to swipe at me and barely missing. "Of course it is! It's right there!"

_"It's just your mind playing tricks on you, Charles. There's nothing here other than you and me. Nothing is going to hurt you."_

"Yes it is! It is!" The restraints groan in protest as I arch against them. I feel something warm trickle down my forearms.

_"Charles? Can you still hear me? Charles?"_ A sigh, a shuffle, and a sharp sensation in my wrist. _"Calm down, it'll be over soon enough."_

"What...what...?" I gasp when my limbs fall uselessly against the bed. "Why won't they work? What did you do?"

_"It's _just_ some _haloperidol_, Charles, _it'll _help _you_ relax."_ The voice slips in and out of focus; clear then distant, loud then quiet. The shadow creature hisses and retreats back into the wall...for now. The whispers die down into silence, and everything is perfectly still.

"There," Speaks the voice, now completely focused. I can hear a calm smile in the words. "Better?"

I manage to roll my head over to the direction of the voice. He sits beside me in his white doctor's coat, hands folded casually in his lap and a hint of a smile on his lips. A nametag with the words DR C. ADAMS is neatly clipped onto his breast pocket and it shines when it catches the light.

"Well then, Charles," He addresses me pleasantly. "Welcome to Pandora."

* * *

His eyes are blue.

It's the only thing I notice as he carefully undoes the leather restraints on the bed and frees me. His eyes are blue. Not just any old blue, but _blue_. Blueblueblueblue.

"Oh dear, you've cut your arms." He sighs. His voice reminds me of the ocean. Like his eyes. "You shouldn't have struggled so hard against the restraints, should you? I'll get you bandaged up."

He comes back with a roll of bandages before I'd even realised he'd left. My arms sting when he dabs iodine onto them to cleanse the cuts, then proceeds to wrap white gauze over the wounds.

"I'm in Pandora?" I ask hoarsely, watching him wrap my arms with skill. "I'm not dead?"

"No, no, far from it." He chuckles. My eyes narrow - is he..._laughing_ at me?

"What's so funny?" I snap. His laughter fades; his smile does not.

"Nothing, nothing. No Mr Princeton, you are quite alive. You bit one of the guards whilst he was trying to search you, then it was decided it would be easier just to sedate you." He explains mildly. "However, you were still fighting as you slipped in and out of consciousness...so we had to tie you to the bed. My apologies if it gave you a scare." He laughs again.

"Shut up." I growl. He doesn't seem offended in the slightest.

"As you wish, Charles-"

"And stop calling me that," I interrupt. "My name is _Chazz_, not Charles, and that's The Chazz to you."

"Alright then, 'The Chazz', let me explain about your current situation." He leans back in his chair, twiddling his thumbs in a carefree manner. "You've been sentenced to stay here until you're at least 18, and then it's up to the institute to determine whether you're sane enough to leave this place."

"I'm perfectly sane _now_, thanks." I tell him. "This is a place for lunatics, which I am not, so let me go already."

"Out of the question, I'm afraid. _You_ might think you're quite sane, but the law, alas, does not agree."

"But I'm not crazy!" I protest, trying and failing to sit upright. "I'm not, really!"

"We'll be the best judge of that, Mr Princeton." Adams eyes me critically. "I'd say attacking people for no reason, biting the guards and then having severe hallucinations were all signs of insanity, wouldn't you?"

My stomach twists uncomfortably. But...no! That's not fair! It's _my_ mind, and I say I'm not crazy!

"You're currently in isolation - that'll last about a week." Adams continues. "Until then you're forbidden from leaving the room, and the guards outside will stop you if you try. Meals will be brought to you three times a day, and your bathroom is over there." He nods over to a small toilet and sink situated in the corner. "The rest of the rules will be explained when your isolation period is over, but until then you only need to know this: repeated violent behaviour towards yourself and/or anyone else will result in you being transferred to a maximum security cell - and trust me, you don't want that to happen."

I decide not to dwell on that statement. "So I'm stuck here for a week?" I gaze around the bare room, unimpressed. "What am I supposed to _do_, exactly?"

"Rest. Relax. Banish any homicidal tendencies you might have." Adams shrugs nonchalantly, and I can't tell whether he's being serious or not. "Time will pass soon enough. I'll be dropping by every so often to see how you're doing and such."

"Joy." I answer dryly.

He laughs. "Quite. We'll have a lot to talk about in the upcoming week. I have to go soon, so...any questions?"

"Yeah, what's the meaning of life?"

Another chuckle. "You are a strange one. Why would you ask that?"

"Scared of answering?"

He looks somewhat pleased. "You and I are going to get on very well, Mr Princeton. And the answer depends on the person who asks the question - but then, you already knew that." He stands up. "Well, people to see, places to be...but I won't be gone long, promise." He winks suggestively and strides out of the room. I 'hmph!' and try to cross my arms, only they're too heavy, so I settle for looking pissed off instead. Smartass. Thinks he's so great with his shiny nametag and his impossibly blue eyes...

A soft sigh floats into the room: my own, I realise. So I'm here until I'm 18...three long years away. But what about Duel Academy? I'm expelled, I suppose, and somehow I doubt they'd let me back in. I won't be able to enter tournaments either...hell, I might never be able to duel again! But dueling's my thing! What the heck am I going to do with the rest of my life?!

I'll probably never see the others again either...not that I really care...although I'll miss Alexis. Gah, what will she think of me after this...? She wasn't there when I went after Jagger and Slade, but no doubt she'll find out from Jaden, Bastion and Syrus - as will the rest of Duel Academy. What will they say, I wonder? It'll probably be talked about for years to come, until it's no more than a ghost story: 'The day Chazz Princeton tried to kill his brothers on the pier'. I suppose I got what I wanted, didn't I? I wanted to leave an impression, for people to remember me...but not like this. Not like this...

I look around the room again, since I'm too tired to move my head much. Might've known this place would be low-key, but would it have killed them to put some walls or a curtain or _something_ around the toilet? I mean, whatever happened to privacy? And what about the minibar? The chocolate fountain? The swimming pool? And what the hell is with all the _white_ here? Was the decorator colourblind or something? Maybe he deliberately set out to make the residents as depressed as possible...hmph, well I have to say, it's working like a charm.

Only now I'm part of the white world; glancing down, I can see my body dressed pale washed-to-rags ward clothes. A pair of shorts and a short-sleeved shirt with '4021' stitched onto the chest...is that all I am now? A number? My identity was taken away with my clothing - I wonder where my outfit is now? Probably stuffed in some locker and gathering dust, and the coat will get all creased. By the time I get out, the clothes won't fit me anymore. But even when I _do_ get out, I won't get my identity back; I'll have to change my name, start afresh as a completely new person...as far as the world is concerned, Chazz Princeton died the day he attacked his brothers.

I'll prove them wrong. When I get out of here, I'll get so damn famous that _no-one_ will forget The Chazz.

Of course, three years is quite a while away yet. But I'm sure I'll manage to convince everyone I'm sane - who knows, maybe they'll even let me out early when they see how completely not-crazy I am. I can survive here...I mean, how hard can it be?

* * *

Ah, famous last words...so, was it okay? I tried to make Chazz a little more Chazzy when he was talking to Adams and such - Adams, by the way, will be veeery important later on. So, what are your views on him? You like? You dislike? No-one can judge their own work effectively, they need people to do it for them - and that's why I need you to review and give me your opinion! 


	3. Pandemonium

Maybe it's just in comparison to the success of 'Desert Rain', but I seem to be getting very few reviews for this, and truth be told it's slightly worrying. Is it that bad? I mean...I know people are reading this from the number of hits, but I don't seem to be getting any feedback...and I kind of need it, you know. It's somewhat disheartening to write a story and only get a few people commenting on it. If you like it, please tell me. If you don't, please tell me why and I'll do my best to improve it.

Now for the **warnings:** Er...graphic **hallucination**, use of **drugs**, **swearing**, general poor writing quality. Oh, and all welcome the return of insane!Chazz! (cheer)

**Yami's Chan: **What, Chazz actually staying in there until he's 18? Pfft. Since when did Chazz ever do what he's told?

**Coco Gash Jirachi: **Hello again! Well, angst is okay provided it's not whiny, so I'll try my best to avoid that.

**ac-the-brain-supreme: **Yep, his name is Charles...but he hates that, so Chazz it is! And as for Adams...coughcough...you'llhavetowaitandsee.

**ZomBRI: **You don't trust him, you say? You shall have to see if you're right...and thank you for the Desert Rain comment! I think Necromancer!Jun and his decorating tips were the most fun to write in that. He's also insane, but in a funnier way.

**Littlest-Angel: **Aw, I love Chazz, he's so cute (also pats Chazz's head) Owchies! Damn spikes...haven't heard of those songs, but I'm listening to Coldplay's 'The scientist' at the moment. So sad! Makes me wanna cry...

I don't own Yugioh GX. Is it really necessary for me to repeat that every chapter?

* * *

Delirium, part three (pandemonium)

"No!" I shout, throat red raw from screaming. "Let me go! Don't you see it?! It's going to kill me! Let me _go!_"

_"Someone this thin shouldn't be this strong as well..."_ One guard mutters, not sure which. There's five of them - one to each limb and another to hold my head still as I twist and flail for all I'm worth. Above me, the nightmarish shadow-creature gives a banshee-like wail which rattles my eardrums and drowns out my own shrieks of terror.

_"Dr Adams! Please hurry!"_ Another guard calls as I arch my back impossibly and fight against their hands. Hands, hands, so many hands, with fingers that grip and bruise and scorch my bare flesh.

"Nooo! It burns! It _burns!_" I cry desperately. Flames rise and fall and dance around my blackening bedsheets, and roar so loudly in my ears that they start to bleed, trickling red onto the pillow. "Please, make it stop, make it stop!" I plead, looking wildly at the security. Oh God, they're covered in maggots, white and writhing maggots everywhere, falling onto the bed, inching their way onto my limbs... "Help! No! Get them off, get them off, please get them off me!"

_"I'm here."_ Hurried footsteps into the room, which crawls with shiny black ants clicking their pincers all at once, so loud, so fucking _loud_...why isn't he affected by them? It's like he can't hear them, or see them, or feel them crawling over his shoes...

_"Hold still, Chazz, it'll be over soon..."_ He starts filling a needle and - he's covered in blood! His white coat is stained with crimson and - oh my God, he's going to kill me, he's going to kill me, he's going to - fuck, it's so...damn..._noisy!_ All at once, the creature wailing and the flames roaring and the maggots moving and the ants clicking and me calling for help - someone, anyone help me! Why won't you help me?!

He leans over me and - his face is rotting away, I can see his skull, venom oozing from his teeth - injects the needle into my neck. I can feel it _spreading_ throughout my veins, little haloperidol knights in shiny armour fighting off the bad, bad, bad cells with little swords and shields and cries of 'huzzah!' and oh, I'm getting tired now...

_"Chazz?"_ Adams asks after I've gone completely still. _"Can you still hear me? Chazz?"_

"My ears are bleeding." I whisper, then everything - the insects, the flames, the ceiling-monster, the guards, Adams - is drowned out by beautiful, glorious colour. The deepest blues, the richest reds, the most vibrant greens, the brightest yellows, the softest oranges...it all washes over me one after the other, even when I close my eyes. It soothes and warms and heals and sings to me until I drift asleep with a contented sigh.

* * *

I'm starting to wonder how I could have ever mistook this place for heaven.

I'm sick of the sight of this room. There's nothing to do but _think_. I think and I eat and I think and I hallucinate and I get injected with something and then I can't move so I think again and I fall asleep and then I wake up and I think some more and I eat and I think and I talk to Adams and I think and I scream for a bit and I get injected again and I think until I fall asleep and when I wake up the routine starts all over again but there's just so much _thinking!_

...Phew. Breathe, Chazz, breathe.

Dr Adams visits me sometimes...I don't know how often...I don't have a watch. There's no clock on the wall, no window, no contact with the outside world, _nothing_. What time is it now? I don't know. Could be morning. Or night. Or anything in between.

Sometimes other doctors visit me as well; nameless, faceless, blue eyes-less, if that makes sense. They come and they ask me questions: how old are you? 15, I think. Blood type? Hell if I know. Occupation? You tell me. No really, tell me, I don't know. How much sleep do you get? Enough. How often do you eat? Enough. How often do you defecate? Er, I'd rather not talk about that. Is there a history of mental illness in your family? Other than my two psycho brothers, you mean? No idea. Is there a history of violence in your family? Dunno, they're all dead. Then again, maybe that answers your question. Now go away please. Yes, that means you. Go away. Now. All of you. Go _away _already!

"Chazz." Says a soft voice.

...And the room is empty.

"Water." I gasp, and then I hear fading footsteps. My mouth feels so damn _dry_...not just dehydrated, but utterly barren, like I've swallowed sand. My throat screams for moisture and burns with every ragged breath. The footsteps hurry back.

"Sit up, Chazz." A hand, cool through the flimsy material of my shirt, supports me as I struggle to shift myself up; twice my arms tremble and give way. Rounded plastic presses against chapped lips, which open and gratefully accept the flow of cold, soothing water; it might just be the best thing I've ever tasted.

"Perhaps we should cut back on the medication..." Murmurs the calm, patient, blue voice. "You're hallucinations don't seem to be lessening...and it's already been three days..."

Three days? It feels like longer. But then, time passes slowly when you have nothing to do. I can't wait until this freakin' isolation thing ends, then I'll have something to do to pass the time - I mean, it's only been three days and already I'm slowly dying of boredom. What will the next three _years_ be like?

"Drugs alone won't help you. Your delirium probably relates to a deeper mental disturbance. As such, I propose we tackle the problem face-on."

Propose? Who is he proposing to? There's no-one here. Who is he talking to anyway? More to himself than anyone else...heehee, the good doctor's gone crazy, heeheehee...

"Chazz, I would like to talk about your brothers."

I freeze: the room is cloaked in sparkling ice, like dusted diamonds, the floor blanketed in thick white snow. Icicles hang precariously from the crystallised ceiling and over my frosted bed, threatening to fall. It'd be beautiful if it wasn't so damn _cold_. Regardless, I fold my arms and scowl at Adams.

"Well I would _not _like to talk about my brothers, so I guess that subject is dropped, isn't it?"

"Now Chazz," Adams answers patiently. "Your brothers obviously have something to do with your psychological state. It's in your best interests to discuss this."

"No, it's in my best interests to pretend I'm an only child." I turn my head away with a swish of black spikes. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Chazz..." He says in the warning tone parents use on their children; it only serves to annoy me more.

"Adams..." I mimic in the same voice.

He isn't fazed. "Tell me about your brother, Slade."

"_No_." I snap in reply.

"Then tell me why you won't answer." A serene smile quirks his lips. "Are you afraid?"

"What?!" I'm not afraid. Why would I be afraid? There's nothing to be afraid of here. I'm not afraid.

"You are," He presses coolly. "I see past the bravado, Chazz. You won't address the issue because you're afraid."

"I am _not_!" I snap. I'm not afraid, I'm not - I'm _not!_ Why are you looking at me like that? Stop _looking_ at me like that!

"Afraid of what, though?" He continues, now ignoring me. "Of the outcome? Of the memories? Of the emotions?"

"Shut up! I fear nothing! You hear me?! _Nothing!_" I yell hoarsely.

"You fear _them_." He points out. "Your brothers frighten you, and that makes you feel weak, which in turn makes you angry at others and at yourself - like now."

"No! I'm not...I'm not...just shut the hell up!" I can feel myself growing lightheaded; the room sways slightly before me. What's happening? Adams hasn't injected me with anything, so I shouldn't be feeling so...so...tired...

"What's going on? What...what did you do to me...?" I gasp, gripping the bedsheets as my eyes struggle to keep focus on the world. My gaze falls on the empty cup on the bedside table, once filled with water...wait a minute...the water..._the water!_ "My drink...what the hell did you put in my drink...?!"

_"It's for your own good, Chazz."_ His voice is growing distant and echoed again, like I'm hearing it from down a tunnel. _"Now let's try this again...tell me about your brother Slade."_

Slade. Sladen. Sladen Waden Kaden Faden..._Jaden!_ Yes, that was it. His smile is too loud. It hurts my ears. I'm going to tell him to turn down the volume, and then I'll ask him to marry me. Oh wait, that's Alexis. Her eyes are pretty. They remind me of happyshinysparklylovelythings.

_"Chazz."_ The sound of a pen tapping against a notebook alerts me to the present once more. Present. Christmas present. I got socks for Christmas with flashing reindeers on them. From Jaden, of course.

...He buys me really weird presents sometimes.

_"Are you planning to tell me or not?"_ Adams queries politely. I blink: question? What question? Oh wait, Slade, that was it:

Slade...with the name comes memories of an authoritarian figure, forever lurking in the background, watching, watching, always goddamn _watching_...he's never raised a hand to me - but then, he doesn't need to. His words are far sharper than any blade and one sentence could hurt me more than a lifetime of bruises. When he's angry his words cut into me. But when he's calm and collected, and his voice is dangerously soft...his words can rip me to pieces.

"Slade, he...he..." My voice is slurred and drunken. "He doesn't hit me," I confirm finally; Adams nods and writes it down. "But sometimes...he says things..."

_"What sort of things?"_

"Bad things." I whisper, bringing my knees up to my chest and rocking back and forth slightly for comfort, just like Mom used to rock me when I was a tiny Chazz. "Nasty, hurtful, spiteful things. Better to cover your ears and not hear it. Hurts to hear it."

_"And does he do anything else?"_ I shake my head; Adams writes something in his neat little book in scrawly spider handwriting. _"Now tell me about Jagger."_

Jagger...whilst he doesn't have the delightful way with words that Slade has, he can sure pack a mean punch. Slade says the words, and Jagger enforces those words with fists. He doesn't hit especially hard...but he knows exactly _where_ to hit that'll cause the most pain with the least evidence. Like my collarbone. The bruising is gone, but it still hurts like hell.

_"Hm? Why did you do that?"_ Adams frowns.

"Do what?"

_"Your hand drifted to your collarbone. Care to explain why?"_

I look at my right hand: sure enough, it's resting just beneath my throat. Traitorous body parts...

"Jagger...is there to remind me of my place." I say hollowly, not telling him about my collarbone, since there's no bruise there to prove my story. "He hits me sometimes...all the time...when he can find the time...I suppose actions speaks louder than words to him, eh?" I laugh humorlessly, and don't stop. Laugh, laugh, always laugh because there's nothing else you can do...Mom, come back, I miss you...I miss you so much...

_"You have very little bruising."_ Adams points out. I laugh again. _"Chazz?"_

"Everyone says that." I try to stifle my laughter, but it just comes out louder and more hysterical. "Everyone! But they don't know, you see. Jagger knows how to hurt me without leaving marks. He could knock me out and only leave a shallow cut. Come to think of it...he's done that quite a few times." I add as an afterthought.

_"And you believe this to be completely true?"_

"Yes, yes, it _is_ true, don't you realise that?!" I snap suddenly, agitation flaring through me. Why doesn't anyone believe me?! "They do it, they've always done it, and they will continue to do it until either _I'm_ dead, or _they're_ dead. And I have no intention of dying just yet."

_"I...see. Well Mr Princeton, I've found out everything I need to know, for now."_ He tucks his notepad away safely inside his jacket and produces a needle instead. _"Now how about you just go to sleep and have nice, happy dreams, hm?"_

"Happy dreams...that sounds like a good idea..." I reflect, wondering why I didn't think of that before. Adams leans over me, and I feel cold fingers grasp loosely around my wrist before there's a sharp sensation, and then...fatigue. My eyelids grow too heavy to keep open, so I let them snap shut, head dropping forwards onto my chest and body going slumping against the headboard.

_"I bid you adieu, Mr Princeton."_ He utters softly, and I feel cold fingers run through my raven locks once before they retract. The last thing I hear is footsteps leaving the room before weak weariness gets the better of me - time to go to the land of happy dreams...

* * *

"Truth serum," I accuse Adams later, fists clenched and trembling with rage. "You spiked my drink with truth serum."

"I did." He confirms calmly. He doesn't - he isn't - well why isn't he _apologising?!_

"Why." I snap. It isn't a question.

"It was a necessary procedure." He shrugs, and my anger spikes up again. "I needed the information, and I needed the truth. This was the most effective method."

"You fucking _drugged_ me!" I scream hoarsely. "You can't just drug up people whenever you feel like it!"

"I think you'll find I can. You forget: this is Pandora. The rules of outside society don't apply here." Adams relaxes back into his chair, that goddamn chair, the one he always sits in. "Besides, I medicate you all the time. You should have grown used to it by now."

"That's different!" I growl, fingers curled so tightly into fists that my nails cut crescent-shaped marks into my palm. Then suddenly, a thought strikes me:

Truth serum. He used truth serum on me.

So whatever I said...it must have been the truth.

"What I said when I was drugged," I say with a renewed sense of energy and eagerness. "I told you about my brothers, what they do to me. So now you know I'm not lying about them!"

"I know what you perceive to be true, yes." Adams replies. My eyes narrow at the statement.

"'Perceive to be true'? What do you mean? That's not the same thing as truth."

"No, it's not." Adams agrees. "I'm inclined to believe you, Chazz, but you cannot alter the fact that there is not _a single mark on your body._"

"Because of Jagger! He can hit me without leaving bruising!" I argue - no, no, this can't be happening again, I'm telling the _truth!_ Why won't they listen to me?! "I _told_ you that!"

"Chazz, it can't be done. No-one can inflict damage without leaving some sort of injury." Adams observes me with quizzical blue eyes. "So what you're saying _cannot_ be true."

"But I was under the effects of truth serum. That means I couldn't have been lying." I point out through gritted teeth. "How do you explain that?"

Adams laces his fingers together thoughtfully. "Well you see, Chazz, sometimes mental illness can mix things up in our minds-"

"I'm not ill, dammit!" My fist crashes down on the mattress, not quite having the vehement violence I wanted it to. "And I'm not mixed up either!"

Adams doesn't even blink at the action, but continues: "-In fact, sometimes it can even go so far as to create a sort of false memory, where we think something has happened, even though it actually hasn't-"

"But it _did_ happen!"

"-Which explains why you said all those things even under the effects of truth serum- because it is, in your mind, what you honestly believe to be true. But that doesn't mean it actually occurred."

"Why won't anyone believe me?!" I wail. "They're _not_ false memories, they're _real!_"

"Now now, Chazz, you shouldn't be too upset." Adams reassures me. "False memories aren't that uncommon here in Pandora, you're not the only one to think up make-believe abuse."

'Make-believe abuse'?

I think I'm going to cry.

No! Don't cry! Crying is bad! The Chazz does _not_ cry!

"Anyway, with some psychiatric sessions and the right medication, we should be able to get your memories back to normal." Adams finishes promptly. "By the time you get out of here you'll be right as rain."

Right as rain? But rain _can't_ be right, it falls vertically or diagonally and lands on the window and looks like tears - dammit Chazz, _don't_ cry! To cry is to show weakness, and I'm not weak! I. Am. Not. Weak!

"My memories are real." I insist harshly. "Why the hell would I make up being abused?"

"That remains to be seen. But think, Chazz: The Princeton group are world-renowned. Your brothers are practically celebrities. They're the subject of much tabloid interest." Adams says seriously. "If anything _was_ happening to you, no matter how careful your brothers were, they'd get found out. It's be all over the newspapers in a matter of hours. There's no-one in the world who wouldn't know about it."

"You don't understand!" I protest, but I can feel the first squirm of doubt in my stomach. No, it _is_ true, I know it is! "They have money, power, connections! They could easily silence anyone who threatened their reputation!"

"You can't silence everyone, Chazz. Rumours will always get out somehow, from someone. There may not be evidence, but there'll always be gossip and hearsay. But has there been any of that?" His blue, blue eyes bore into my own. "Not a peep. Nothing, not even a hunch, a whisper in the dark, a shred of suspicion. If what you say is really true, Chazz, someone else would know about it. But they don't. Because there's nothing to know."

I feel a cold, clammy nervousness eating away at my insides; my fingers flex subconsciously. No, that can't be right...no-one knows it because I haven't told anyone, because I _can't_ tell anyone...but even so, his words ring truth...there'd be rumours of some kind...too many people are interested in Jagger and Slade to not notice anything...

"I want you to think about what I've told you," Adams stands up, brushing imaginary dust off his white coat carelessly. "And then maybe you'll see things for what they really are. Good day, Chazz." He turns and departs, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

I sit motionlessly on the bed, staring blankly at the wall and yet not seeing it. I remember Slade's words, Jagger's punches - it's all as clear as day. But it just doesn't add up; there's no evidence, no witnesses, not even any shallow gossip. Nothing to suggest they hurt me, except what I remember, and that might not be entirely reliable.

Are my memories real? Or am I...am I really going crazy...?

* * *

It used to be that you put up a story, and people told you whether they liked it or not. But now! No-one reviews anymore! What's wrong with you people? REVIEW! 


	4. Tarriance

Ugh, sorry for the delay, I was on 'holiday' in Spain, a college trip. Go read my livejournal (the homepage on my profile) for the full details and you'll understand why I'm not feeling so great at the moment. But I'm not delaying due to number of reviews: I figured I'm not gonna get much more than 5 per chapter, so I figure I might as well just have fun writing the story. Be warned though: from here on it starts getting dark, so proceed with caution...and don't flame. I'm not in the mood for it.

Okay, **warnings:** Use and abuse of **drugs**, a bit of **swearing**, and implications of a **sexual** nature. You should already know that this will be a **yaoi** story, since I write nothing else. I'm not really into het pairings... (heterophobe? O.o Just kidding)

**LonelyGirl9426:** Thanks! That's what I was going for. I'm glad you liked that line, I've been waiting for the opportunity to use it for ages.

**ZomBRI:** But you can see why no-one believes him, right? That's good, I wanted to get that across.

**sasukemyemo394: **Thank you for the support! I'm glad to know someone likes this.

**Coco Gash Jirachi: **Funnily enough, I have many friends with the same attitude as that.

**DancingKirby: **Yeah, I figured it was because it wasn't in the 'romance' category. There _will_ be romance...just not yet. And, er, it won't be Chazz/Alexis, I'm not a very big fan of that pairing. Or any het pairing. Or Alexis (coughMary-suecough). I think I've already mentioned what the pairing will be, haven't I...? Ah, no matter, you'll find out in the chapter.

**The Goddess Azure Thunder: **NOOO! Not a spork!

**Littlest-Angel:** You have no idea just how much research I put into this thing. I have a whole computer file of stuff on delirium and hallucinations. I'm glad you think it's funny - I didn't want it all to be doom and gloom, although there'll probably be a lot more of that from now on. But I don't want to write anything depressing, so putting humour into the story is very important!

BTW, I released a Manoume-centric oneshot called 'Monochrome'. Over 100 views in the first few hours...and ONE freakin' review! (love ya Littlest-Angel) Go read it and tell me what you think. I don't care if you don't like it, just bloody tell me.

Oh, and no, I don't own Yugioh GX.

* * *

Delirium, part four (Tarriance) 

Twitch. Twitch.

...Can't sleep...

I blame this on the new room. It's smaller than the last one, still irritatingly white, got it's own little window. Barred, of course, but at least I get to see the sun. It's dark now though - quite a while until sunrise. Clock on the wall tells me it's 2:00 AM. Tick tock.

The rules are strict here: No dangerous items, no illegal substances, no violence towards yourself, no violence towards others, no stealing, no being out after bedtime, no trying to escape, no no no no _no_. I can't take a _shower_ without getting permission, can't walk around without a guard watching me, I can barely _breathe_ unless I've been allowed...

And I don't even have a choice about my _day:_ wake up at 9:00 AM, lights out at 9:00 PM, no leaving the vicinity of your room after curfew. Breakfast at 9:30, lunch is 12:30, dinner is 5:30. Attendance is compulsory, the nurse told me. I think she thinks I have an eating disorder. Well I don't! Just because I'm thin doesn't mean I'm anorexic! I eat all the time! Do you know how many girls would kill for this figure?!

...That doesn't really make me feel any better.

Hm, kill. I wonder, am I still going to kill Jagger and Slade? When I get out of here, that is. I suppose I am...I mean, if at first you don't succeed, try again, but with a gun or something. Actually, a gun would be too merciful for them, too quick. A knife? Ah, but the blood! It's all messy and it gets everywhere and there's germsgermsgerms...what about poison? Maybe, but how would I get them to take it? It's just as well I have three years to plan this...

2:05 AM. Argh, why can't I sleep?! It's not like I'm not tired, it's just I can't...fucking...sleep! Sleep, body of mine, sleep! I command you to sleep!

...It's not working...

_You shouldn't be here._

Head snaps up. Oh _hell_. I might've known it'd follow me here...no Chazz, calm down, remember it isn't real, it can't hurt you...

_You must leave!_ Angrier, hissing, shadows crawling along the floor. Just close your eyes, Chazz. Remember: if you ignore it, it'll go away, ignore it and it will go away, ignore it and it will go away...

_Get out!_ Straight in my ear, loud and quiet, like someone messing with the volume control. _Leave this place! Leave at once!_

"Go away!" Ohh, I shouldn't have done that. If you respond, it'll keep talking. Ignore it and it will go away, ignore it and it will go away...don't look, don't look, don't look...

Fuck, I just looked.

It's face is centimetres from mine, with drooling mechanical fangs and leering yellowed eyes. It opens it's mouth; and inside that is another mouth, and another, and another, and so many glistening teeth just waiting to rip me to pieces...

"No!" I yell, leaping from the bed just as it comes crashing down behind me, barely missing me. "Leave me alone!"

It wails - and I wail - and I run over to the window to open it and escape somewhere, anywhere. There's a clang as the glass hits the metal bars and stops it from opening not even enough for my foot to get through. The screech behind me alerts me to dive out of the way as the creature pounces. It flies over me and sinks into the wall, becoming a mass of writhing tentacular shadows that wriggle up the walls and gather on the ceiling. I run for the door, but hands emerge from the floor to grasp my ankles and trip me up; I fall, hard. My legs won't work - I can't get up - I'm going to die!

_You must go_, The voice seems to surround me, pressing down like a weight on my chest, making it difficult to breathe. _You cannot stay here any longer. You __must__ go!_

"I can't leave! They won't let me!" I call out, and flinch when something wet drips onto my face. What is that? Water or something...the room above mine must've flooded...

_It is too dangerous here,_ The haunting whisper floats through the room. More liquid falls from the ceiling. _You must leave before it is too late..._

"I _know_ already! Stop saying that!" I retort angrily. Out of the corner of my eye, I see something oozing out of the corners of the room and down the pristine white walls, staining them...

Red.

Another droplet of it falls from the ceiling and onto my shirt; turning my gaze downwards, I can see the scarlet stain slowly spreading over my chest.

I scream.

The hands worm their way out of the floor again to stop me from getting to my feet, but I fight them off and jump to my bed. I have to escape, I have to escape, I have to escape, Ihavetoescape...

I spot an air vent situated at the top of the wall just above me. Of course! People in movies always escape through the air vents, don't they? I balance precariously on the headboard of my bed to shakily unscrew the vent grid with my fingers. Come on, come on, hurry up...yes, did it! Take off the grid and-

_That will not work,_ Says the room.

The moment I pull the air vent cover away there's a spray of red, gushing all over me, my hair, my clothing...it coats me in red slime, causing me to lose balance and fall back onto the floor, onto the hands. The vent cover clatters beside me loudly, and then there's just screaming, and screaming, and screaming, and screaming-

* * *

"The guards tell me you haven't been doing so well," Adams says. 

I don't reply. We're sat in his office, on leather chairs facing each other with a polished but cluttered desk in-between; surrounded by dusty books with scientific names I can't even pronounce, and endless stacked files, and an ancient grandfather clock that goes _tick tock_ and chimes every 16 minutes, since it's slightly slow.

"Care to tell me what happened last night?" He rests his chin on interlocked hands, propped up by his elbows. His marina eyes gaze up at me thoughtfully. I still don't say anything.

"The guards tell me you were..." He picks up a piece of paper - some sort of report - and eyes the handwritten account. "'Screaming and thrashing around on the floor, whilst frantically tearing at you skin and clothes'." He puts the paper back down. "You also attempted to escape via the air vents, correct?"

I'm not going to answer because I don't have to. I'll just sit here in silence, thanks.

"After escorting you from the room to be calmed down, you broke free and ran straight into the shower area, and refused to come out for three hours."

I cast my gaze down at my hands. It took so long to get the blood off...even so, there's still dark patches of it all up my arms that I can't seem to get rid of. I scratch at them lightly, hoping Adams won't notice me.

"So are you going to tell me about it?" He asks again, taking a sip of tea from a mug and making a face because it's long since gone cold. "I can't help you if you won't tell me the problem."

"...Blood." I whisper at last.

He blinks - he wasn't expecting me to actually co-operate. "Excuse me?"

"Blood. Everywhere. Bubbling out of the walls," I describe, and scratch at my arms a little harder. "There was...a monster...made of shadows, telling me things. So I ran away and it followed and then there was blood..."

"I see." He's taken out his notepad again to write things down. "What else?"

"Shadows all over the floor, the ceilings, the walls...and hands. Tripped me up, held me down, stopped me from getting away. But I had to escape, had to get out..." The scratching becomes more persistent still. The sound of it fills the room, drowning out the _tick tock_ of the grandfather clock. "I tried to get out through the vents, but when I opened it - just blood everywhere, all over me! Filthy, slimy, germs - and then the hands got me and I couldn't get away this time and I was moving about but they wouldn't _let go_-"

"Chazz!" Adams stands up and snatches both my wrists to stop me scratching. I look down at the skin, now red raw and bleeding slightly from the white scratches that mar the surface. There's not a drop of blood in sight.

I flinch slightly when the clock chimes, filling the room with tinkling sound. I finishes abruptly.

"...I'm taking you off the medication," Announces Adams.

"_What?!_" I cry, yanking my wrists from his grasp and standing up as well. "No! You can't!"

"The medication is supposed to stop your hallucinations. It's clearly not working, so there's no point in you taking it anymore." He shakes his head. But he can't do that! I _need_ that medication! It's the only thing that makes the hallucinations go away - if he takes it away, I don't have anything to protect me anymore!

"It _is_ working!" I protest. "I just need a stranger dosage, that's all!"

"Chazz, you're already on the maximum dosage, I can't give you any more." He tells me calmly. "It isn't helping you, so I'm taking you off it."

"No you're not, you're not..."

"I am, Chazz."

I stare at him coldly and grit my teeth. Okay, demanding isn't going to get me anything...I guess I only have one choice left...

"Please," I say, forcing the unfamiliar word from my lips. "Don't take me off the medication. I need it."

"Oh, you _need_ it, do you?" Something glints in Adams' eyes, though I can't tell what it is. "Well I'm afraid I can't give it to you."

"I said _please_, dammit!" I growl, then let out a breath. Come on Chazz, shouting won't get you the medication...let's try a different approach. "Look, why don't we do an exchange? You give me something _I_ want, and I'll give you something _you_ want. What do I have to do?"

Adams' eyes flash dangerously. "Well I _might_ be interested in overlooking the dosage limit...for a price."

Aha, I've got him. "Name it," I say. "I'm rich, I can afford just about anything-"

"Oh, I don't mean money," Adams waves a hand carelessly. "Besides, all your bank accounts have been frozen until you're 18. You're penniless."

I frown. "Not money? Then what do you want - wait, did you just say I'm penniless?"

"Until you're 18, yes, and that's rather a long time away," Adams tells me. "But no, I have plenty of money, I'm not interested in gaining any more. No, I was thinking of a..._different_ sort of price."

"Well then what? Property? Stocks?"

"Nothing material, Chazz." Adams hums pleasantly. "No, what I want...is _you_."

"Me? What do you mean-"

It dawns on me what he wants. Desperation turns to disgust.

"Well?" Adams tilts his head.

"Fuck off." I hiss.

His gaze lingers on me for a few seconds, then without warning he shrugs his shoulders and stands up. "Alright," He says calmly, gesturing towards the door. "Out you go, then."

"What?" I admit, I'm taken back - I thought he'd be more persistent than that... "Well what about my medication?"

"Medication? Why Chazz, you're not on any medication. At least, not any more." He walks over to me. "You're not going to give me what _I_ want, so I'm not going to give you what _you_ want. Simple as that."

"But what about my hallucinations?!"

"Just pretend they're not there." He grabs my arm and begins dragging me towards the door.

"'_Pretend they're not there_'?! But - ow, hey, let go!"

"Not my problem," He opens the door and pushes me into the white corridor. "Good day, Chazz."

"But-!" When I turn around, the door is firmly shut in my face. I stand there motionlessly, not quite sure what to do, then scowl and stomp back to my room, swearing all the way.

* * *

So he won't give me the medication? Well that's fine, just fine, fine and dandy, perfectly fine, finefine_fine_. 

_You just said the word 'fine' seven times in one sentence,_ The pillow tells me.

...Fuck, I really need that medication.

No! I can't give in. It's just a battle of wills, a contest to see who'll cave in first - and I'll win. He has to give me the drugs _eventually_, I just have to wait _patiently_ and _sensibly_ for that time...

Twitch.

Of course, I'm not entirely sure how long I can manage without the medication. I mean, it's not so bad during the day, but at night when the shadows are about...maybe I should just...no, I _won't_ give in! Even though I _want_ to...but Adams _won't_ give me what I _want_ because he _wants_ what I _won't_ give. But if I had the drugs, I _won't want_ any longer-

There's a knock on my door.

My eyes narrow: Adams? He could have come back to...to...well, I don't want to think about it. On the other hand, I could have been hearing things, since that seems to be happening a lot lately. Adams or hallucination? I'm not sure which one's worse...

"Mr Princeton?" Says a soft, feminine voice from the other side of the door. "Are you in there?"

...It's not Adams. I breathe out a sigh of relief and walk over to the door. When I open it, a nurse is waiting for me.

"Mr Princeton, you have a visitor," She says kindly; ah, one of the nicer nurses - also a total pushover, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. For me, that is. "Would you like to see him?"

Him? Alarm bells ring in my head. Literally. Who could it be? Jagger?! Slade?!

"...Alright," I say hesitantly - I won't know unless I go and find out. Besides, even if it _is_ Jagger and Slade, they can't hurt me in here, right?

...Right?!

Damn, maybe I should have agreed to this.

"He's just through here," She smiles, leading me into a waiting area not unlike that of a hospital, with rows of steel chairs and old magazines. It's considerably more colourful than the rest of the building, with those annoyingly cheerful posters plastered on the walls chirping advice like: 'Don't worry, be happy!' and 'Don't smoke, or you'll croak!'

But where are Jagger and Slade?

"There he is. I'll come to collect you in an hour," The nurse tells me, and leaves promptly. I wander slowly over to where she gestured, looking around the room. There's a few other people here: one waiting quietly, a tearful couple talking to what looks like their daughter, who's too busy plucking at her bandaged arms to even notice them. Other than that, and the menacing guards of course, the room is completely empty - Pandora really _is_ cut off from the outside world, I realise.Once you're in here you're a number - and numbers don't have friends or family or people who care about them. Mind you, if you're bad enough to get sent here in the first place - which, judging by the level of security, must be pretty bad - then chances are you never had any of that stuff to begin with.

...Am I that bad...?

"Hey Chazz!" Someone cheers. Wait, I recognise that voice. Actually, I'd be hard-pressed to forget it. Could it be...?

I look up, and sure enough it's _him_, looking so excited and pleased and concerned that he's about to fall off his seat. The tanned skin which just can't compare to my flawless white.The brunet hair which is considerably messier than my head of perfect black spikes. The brown eyes that contrast my own in every way.

"You!" I utter before I even realise I've opened my mouth. It's the one and only-

* * *

"Slacker," I speak hoarsely. It's _supposed_ to be an insult, but he seems to have taken it more as a nickname than anything else. 

"Wow..." Jaden says, crossing his legs Indian-style in his seat. "You look terrible."

"Thanks a bunch, slacker," I mumble, taking the seat opposite him. Geez, I _know_ I look awful...there's no need to be so blatant about it...

"You're welcome!" He chirrups. "So, watcha been up to?"

"Surviving," The honest truth. "You?"

"Nothing much. They cancelled Duel Academy until further notice, so I've just been staying at home."

"They cancelled Duel Academy? Why?"

"You," He answers simply. "After, er, you know, 'the incident'-" He dances around the issue, I notice. And not very well. Hn, Jaden dancing...now _that's_ a disturbing image. "-Duel Academy was in uproar. They sent everyone home whilst they sorted out the press and such. It was all hushed up, I think."

Hushed up, huh? Jagger and Slade's doing, no doubt. After all, if people start questioning _my_ behaviour, they'll start questioning _theirs_ too.

"Me, Sy and Bastion had to go to counseling, and they asked me all these funny questions about what happened..." Jaden wrinkles his nose. How on earth does he _do_ that? "Afterwards they said I'd be fine, that there was no...er, 'lasting mental trauma', I think it was. They said I just needed to get plenty of rest and not over-work myself. Fine by me." He stretches luxuriously. I scowl - typically lazy Slifer Slacker...

"I don't think they'll let you back in again, Chazz." Jaden says, his tone serious now. "I mean, everyone's afraid of you now, even the teachers. You won't be allowed back."

"I know." I sigh. "It doesn't matter; I won't be able to get out of _this_ place for another three years at least. By that time I'll be too old for Duel Academy anyway..."

"Well there has to be _something_ good, right?" Jaden tells me. "I mean, at least they're taking care of you here."

I stare at him incredulously. "Say _what_?!" I snap. "They are not 'taking care' of me, slacker. They are torturing me. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I look a wreck, the _walls _are _talking_ to me..." I leave out the last reason: 'and the shrink wants to have his way with me'. It's probably better no-one knows about that just yet. "I'm in a _loony bin_ for chrissakes. It doesn't get much worse than this."

"Oh..." Jaden looks only momentarily downcast. "Well, do they serve nice food?"

I give up. This guy is hopeless.

"That reminds me, I got you something," Jaden says, and I perk up. A present? For me? It had better not be Christmas socks or underwear again...Jaden reaches for a white box seated next to him. Inside is an iron file.

"Um, here," He hands it to me hesitantly; I raise a single eyebrow demanding an explanation "It's to help you escape - you know, just like in the movies. There _was_ a cake, but I, er, sort of got hungry on the way here..."

"Slacker, I swear, you re-define what it means to be a moron," I snap, throwing the useless file back at the box. It knocks it aside, revealing something underneath. "Hn? What's this?"

"Just a newspaper I was reading on the train over here," Jaden explains, hastily picking up the cake box from the floor. "Not that I normally read the newspaper or anything, but the shop at the train station had run out of my favourite magazine, so..."

He continues to talk, but I've long stopped hearing him. I unfold the small paper, smoothing out the front page to scan the headline. My eyes widen slightly.

"...And I mean, there were other dueling magazines, but none of them were as good, so I thought 'well why pay all that money when I can just get a newspaper?' But I didn't think it'd be quite so depressing..." Jaden notices I'm not listening. "Chazz? Watcha looking at?"

"What? Nothing." I say quickly. "Say, can I keep the front page of this? I'd just like to keep it to read later or something."

"Alright, if you want..." He sounds confused, but I don't care: I tear off the front page, glancing at the faded pictures on the cover before balling it up tightly in my hand so it won't be seen. Damn, Jaden's giving me funny looks, better change the subject...

"So," I say, trying to sound bored - although there's no real 'trying' involved. "Why did you decide to grace me with your presence today?"

Jaden looks sheepish. "Well, I wanted to see you..."

That's...kind of nice. I feel a slight warmth in my chest that I can't recall feeling for a long time.

"...That, and I had nothing else to do today." He finishes cheerfully. The warmth fades. Of course. "My parents aren't home an awful lot, so I'm on my own most of the time. It's _boooorrriiing..._"

Hm, that would explain why he never goes home during the holidays - there's no-one to come home to. "Well can't you go down to the arcade or something?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "I live away from all the big cities; by the ocean," He makes a face. "It's nice and all, but there's no-one to talk to! It's a pity you can't come and stay, Chazz. But you're, you know, here."

"I noticed," I comment dryly. "Not that I actually belong here, seeing as I'm perfectly sane, but everyone else seems to disagree."

Jaden blinks. "I don't think you're insane, Chazz."

I look up - did he just say what I think he said...? "You...don't?"

"Well, maybe a little - I mean, you _did_ try to kill two people," Jaden shrugs, as if attempted murder is something that happens every day. Then again, I guess it kinda _does_. "But you had your reasons for going after your brothers. I mean, they hit you, don't they?"

"So you believe me then?" I ask, trying not to appear too eager - I have a reputation to uphold after all. But inside I'm teeming with excitement. "You don't think I'm making it up?"

"Of course not. Why would you make something like that up?" Jaden frowns, then pauses. "Er, you _didn't_ make it up, right Chazz?"

"_No_," I insist, inwardly quite pleased that someone finally believes me - because if someone _other_ than me knows what Jagger and Slade do, then it _must_ be true, and I _must_ be sane! It all works out! I'm not crazy after all!

"I beg to differ," Says Jagger.

Whoah. Pause. Rewind.

_Jagger_?!

"Of course it's me. Who else did you expect?" He snaps briskly, taking a sip of expensive champagne - wait, where did he get that from?

"We came to visit you," A voice hisses in my other ear. I turn my head so sharply it hurts, only to see the smart-suited Slade sitting on my other side, staring at me with cold eyes. But wait a minute...didn't I bite him? Why isn't his neck bandaged?

"Chazz?" Jaden asks, frowning. "Are you alright?"

"They're here..." I gasp, horrified. "They're really here..."

"Well, we couldn't miss the chance to visit our dearest lunatic brother, could we?" Jagger smirks. I swallow nervously.

"Oh _no_, especially when we haven't visited him in so long..."

_"Who's there? Chazz, what are you talking about?"_ Jaden's voice grows distant and echoed, but still clearly confused. Wait, he can't see them? I...I'm hallucinating again...they're not real...

"As far as you're concerned, we're as real as can be," Slade tells me, his voice a harsh whisper in my ears. "And the only way to make us go away is by taking the medication. And the only way to do _that_ is..."

"But..." I shake my head, lightly, then furiously. "No! I don't want to!"

"You don't have a _choice_, Chazz. The only way to get the pills is to give into Adams. You give him what _he_ wants, and he'll give you what _you_ want. That's the way it works here. The outside rules don't apply."

"No! I can't!"

_"Can't what?"_ A flickering flame of a voice in a field of darkness. _"Chazz, what's wrong? Who are you talking to?"_

"You won't do it?" Jagger asks softly, but his tone is laced with menace. "Then I guess we have to do this the hard way."

He raises a fist. Someone screams - me? But it's too late; the blows rain down on my exposed body, hurting, _hurting!_

"Help!" I shout, kicking and flailing to get away. Someone yelps and scrambles out of the way in a blur of brown. "Get away! Don't let them hurt me, don't let them hurt me, don't let them hurt me..."

"Shut up already," Jagger sneers, pushing me to the floor; I land with a smack on the hard flooring. Hurried, heavy footsteps towards me.

"You've disgraced yourself," Slade stands from the doorway - doorway? What doorway? When was there a doorway? "You've disgraced the Princeton name."

"I'm sorry!" I gasp uncontrollably, tossing and turning on the cold, polished floor, trying frantically to push Jagger off. "I didn't mean to!"

"You are no brothers of our anymore," Jagger's fist lands hard. "But you _are_ a good punchbag," He adds.

"Go away! Leave me alone!" Hands grab my limbs and head, holding me steady, stopping me from escaping. "No, let me go! Please, it hurts! Let me _go_!"

_"This one again..."_ One comments gruffly as he holds me down. _"Dr Adams, we need a sedative!"_

"No! Not him! Not him!" I struggle harder. I see a glimpse of blue, and everything sharpens; it's no longer a blur of half-hallucinations and loud colours, but everything in clear, precise detail. I can see everyone being led away to safety, including the couple that were talking to their daughter - she still hasn't noticed them. Her eyes are on her bandaged arms, unraveling them string by string, oblivious to what's going on around her. Adams walks over to Jaden; I can't hear him, but I can read the words on his lips:

_"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave..."_

_"But what about Chazz? Will he be okay?"_

_"He can get dangerous to others and to himself when he's like this. For your own safety, you'll have to go."_

"Don't go, don't go!" I cry, and break free of the human restraints. I roll sideways and jump to my feet, dashing towards Jaden. I can't let him leave - he's the only thing proving my sanity, proving I'm not lying. If he's not here, then I turn insane again!

"Sanity...I need..." I utter breathlessly, before grabbing him and pressing my lips to his. Sanity, sweet sanity, I can taste it in my mouth, flooding-

And then hands - so many hands - grab my shirt and skin and hair, yanking me back, back into insanity. I cry out as my arms is twisted painfully behind my back, and this time I can't break free.

_"I'm sorry sir, you have to leave..."_ Adams says, and Jaden nods numbly, not sure what else to do. No, don't send him away, don't send my sanity away! Adams doesn't want me to be sane, he wants me to be crazy so he can keep me here!

"Don't leave me! Please, don't leave me here!" I shriek, but Jaden's already gone. I have to go after him, go after my sanity, it can't get away, it-

_Snap._

I throw my head back and howl at the agony - the pure _agony_ - that starts at my wrist and shoots up my whole arm like electricity. Pain pain pain painpain painpainpain painpainpainpainpainpain_pain!_

_"What happened?"_ Adams' speaks over my wails, not raising his voice at all and yet heard perfectly. Cold fingers scrape at my wrist and make my cries increase - not because of the pain, although it's there, but because he's _touching me_...

_"His wrist is broken,"_ He comments, unfazed by my wailing. _"From his struggling, no doubt."_

_"He fought so hard he broke his own bones?" _I hear one of the guards say. _"Jesus...we're gonna need some strong sedative."_

_"I'll administer some midazolam. Take him to have his wrist cast and have him restrained to the bed for when he wakes up. He doesn't take to kindly to being tied down, but it's our best option."_

_"Yes sir."_ The white-clad bodies step out of the way, still keeping tight hold on me, allowing Adams to move forwards. To anyone else his blue eyes would seem calm and patient, but I can detect the faintest glimmer of arrogance beneath the surface.

_"Dear dear, Chazz."_ I seem to be the only one who can hear the amusemant in his words. _"You do get yourself into some bad situations, don't you? And now you've gone and injured your wrist as well."_

"Bastard," I spit. "You made me like this. It's your fault."

_"Your delusions are getting to you. My, that delirium of yours is proving tough to beat. But I'm sure your three years with us can clear that up."_ The words 'three years' ring in my head. Three years...I have three years in this godforsaken place...

_"Sleep well, Chazz."_ Cold fingers touch my neck, making me shudder. I yelp at the sudden sting, which is followed by rapid tiredness. Again...it's happening again...

_"That should do it."_ Adams comments as I slump into a boneless heap, held up only by the hands. My head falls forwards in time to see his shiny black shoes retreat a step. _"Get his wrists cast and report back to me. Make sure someone guards his door."_

_"Of course, sir."_ One guard picks me up and lifts me over his shoulder. I feel a wave of nausea at the movement, the world before me swaying crazily. My vision settles enough to see the girl from earlier with her bandages in ribbons, revealing arms burnt black. She stares at me mournfully.

_"The rest of you return to your stations."_ Is the final command before Dr Adams walks away, the footsteps of the other guards following him. The one carrying me begins his journey down the sickeningly white corridors, each step jostling me and making bile rise in my throat.

My eyes, struggling to stay open, glance weakly down at my hand, still tightened into a fist. The fingers uncurl painfully and reveal the newspaper clip screwed up in my palm. I can just see the headline in bold black writing, the only thing proving my sanity...

And then it's gone, falling loosely from my fingers to flutter to the floor. I gaze after it, terrified, trying to reach out and grab it but failing as the guard walks away, leaving it on the floor to be swept away. My eyes scan the headline again before they're too heavy to hold up any longer.

_'Two police officers killed in car crash'_

* * *

Read chapter one again if you don't get that last line. So...Chazz and Jaden finally meet up...and they kissed! Alright, it wasn't a very romantic kiss, but it was still there! So, um, yeah. Make sure you review! 


	5. Desperado

Ta-da! Part five...sorry for delay, it was writers block. I know I always use that excuse, but it was pretty bad this time. This story gives me a _lot_ of writers block...is that a good or a bad thing, you think?

**Warnings: **Pretty much nothing, actually. This one's kinda tame.

Anyway, review replies to the THREE WHO REVIEWED. Even worse than usual...huh.

**Seto's Nice Girl: **Yup, so now we know Chazz isn't insane...or _is_ he? (ponders) I don't think Jaden will be killed off - even though he knows the truth, there's nothing a 15 year-old boy can do, so he's not really a threat. Hm, I haven't decided about Adams yet - I mean, he wasn't intended to be working for anyone but himself, but now that you mention it...and I will try to update as fast as I can! I always post the chapters as soon as I'm finished with them!

**Coco Gash Jirachi: **You got it eventually - and you're not the only one with a terrible memory...you're right about the craziness, everything seems to want to talk to him, and he seems to be getting worse, not better...anyways, thanks for the review! And for looking at 'Monochrome' as well!

**Littlest-Angel: **Oh don't worry, we'll be seeing more of Jaden in the future. It seems our versions of Jaden are equally stupid - pregnant mice and cake-less 'escape cakes', whatever shall he do next? Err, on second thoughts, don't answer that. And boo for retarded computers! I know the feeling all too well...

I don't own yugioh GX, I only twist it in stories like this for my own amusement...muahahahaha...

* * *

Delirium, part five (Desperado) 

Ah...where am I? So soft...warm...

_"Chazz?"_

A voice...familiar, welcomed...but who is it? I know I've heard that voice somewhere before...

_"Oh Chazz..."_ Something ripples against my skin - feels like...silk... _"Look what they've done to you..."_

She sounds so sad...she? I think...yes, she. Definitely a female. But _who_...

_"No...it's my fault. I should have protected you. I should have been there..."_ A sorrowful sigh. Lips, ruby red, the reddest I've ever seen, slightly parted. _"Just promise me one thing, Chazz. Promise me...you'll never become like them."_

I blink: those words...I've heard them spoken before, I _know_ I have...is it...?

"...Mom?" I whisper.

* * *

And then I awake. 

There's no softness, no warmth - only an uncomfortable, narrow bed and painstakingly white surroundings. I try to sit up, can't - can't? Why can't I sit up?! Sit up, I said! Listen to me! _Sit up!_

"I'd advise you stop struggling, you'll do yourself an injury," Speaks _that_ voice. I don't even need to look to know who it is.

"Adams," I growl, ceasing my struggles now I know what's going on. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you to wake up, of course," I can hear the smirk in his words. "Did you have a nice talk with your mother?"

My head snaps sideways to stare at him, shocked. How did he know...?

"You talk in your sleep," He answers, as though reading my mind. Okay, stop it, that's really creepy. Even my _mind_ isn't safe from this guy.

"You shouldn't have been listening," I grumble, turning my gaze back down to my body. Restrained, of course, by the same leather straps biting into my skin as before, tighter than they were last time. One of my wrists is set in a white cast that I'm pretty sure wasn't there before. But otherwise...

"Dejavu, hm?" Adams comments. It _is_ the same as last time, minus the room we're in: me restrained to the bed, Adams sat beside me waiting for me to wake up from a drug-induced slumber - except back then he actually seemed quite nice, if eerily calm all the time. Now...well, now I know.

"Are you going to let me go or not?"

"Depends. Are you going to attack me when I do...or not?" He says casually, then answers his own question. "Probably not, I should think. I am the leading doctor here, after all. It would be very unwise to get on my bad side."

The hairs on the back of my neck raise. Those words...there's a hint of a threat in them, but more than anything else...if I'm not mistaken, he's bringing up his offer again.

"In fact," He continues, sure enough. "It would be in your best interests to win my favour."

"I'm not having sex with you," I growl.

"Now Chazz, really," Adams shakes his head calmly. "Surely you see the benefits of our exchange? You get your medication, your escape from all those nasty hallucinations, and I...well, all I ask for is a few, say, _favours_ in return."

I narrow my eyes. "I'm _not_ having sex with you!"

He raises a slender eyebrow. "Tch, fine. Have it your way, but you're only making things harder for yourself."

"Whatever. Now take these restraints off."

Surprisingly, he complies. I sit up on the bed, rubbing my bare wrist and the red marks left there by the restraints. At least they're not as bad as last time...I look up at the sound of the door closing, finding Adams gone, without so much as a goodbye. He's probably gone off to sulk. Or plot. Or sulkily plot. Or plottingly sulk. I don't know, _something_ that involves sulking and plotting, alright?! Now go away.

Of course, he's right about one thing - I'm making things hard for myself. Of course, I was never one to take the easy route, like certain Slifer slackers that shall remain unnamed...but even so, I need to find a way out of this mess that _doesn't_ include me selling myself to Dr Pervert. I _need_ those drugs, there's no doubt about that, but how can I get them...?

I suppose I'll just have to wait for the opportunity to arise - sometime in the near future, whilst everyone is distracted, I'll be all set to make my move...of course, I'm not entirely sure what my move actually _is_, but I'll think of something like I always do - I am The Chazz, after all. So let's think about...the dream? What dream? Can't remember for the life of me...ah, never mind.

Wait, the plan! No, not that plan, go away Slade. No, the _other_ plan, the plan to get me my medication. I'll do it myself, I'll get the drugs without resorting to Adams and his filthy hands touching me. Yeuch, germsgerms. All I have to do is wait for the right _time_...

* * *

...That time is here. 

Heh, the very night I need a distraction to steal - yes, I'm going to steal it - the medication, one of the other patients goes and has a seizure. Somebody up there must like me, because - what? _What?_ Don't give me that look! It was - I didn't! - I have no idea what you're talking about! It was pure coincidence, I swear...

...Alright, so I switched his medication. Sometimes you have to make your _own_ luck. It was easier than I thought, actually - just had to distract the nurse in charge of the medical trolley with a few senseless compliments while I switched some of the medication around. Ah, the guy'll be fine. So what if he had a little seizure? So what if the whole institution went on lockdown? So what if all the guards rushed to his room? He'll be okay. And more importantly, _I'll _be okay because now I'm free to sneak into the medicinal cabinets and get my drugs.

Th corridors are quiet - a little _too_ quiet, it's making me dizzy. I proceed stealthily, not that there's really any need to, since it's dark and deserted. For once I'm glad this place is too cheap to keep their lights on after 9:00 PM. Shadow has it's advantages for secrecy.

...And here we are, the great supermarket of every medication under the sun. Time to steal some anti-hallucination drugs or whatever they're called for The Chazz - don't get me wrong, I know stealing is bad, but then so is selling your body, and I'd rather be a thief than a prostitute. Now, all I have to do is break in, steal a stash of drugs, then be back in my room before sunrise - easy as that.

Or not. Dammit, might've known the door would be locked. Wait, needle! Managed to swipe this off the medical trolley - this is what what's-his-face from earlier _should_ have taken. Don't have much use for that liquid stuff inside - what the hell is that anyway? - but the needle makes a fine lockpick. Heh, I learned how to do this from watching TV.

...Damn, sure looks a lot easier on TV. Wait, was that a click? Hey, I did it! Oh yes, Chazz Princeton, _you_ are an utter genius. You think so? I do indeed. Why, thank you. You're quite welcome.

So now I'm inside. Rows and rows of bottles and jars...but which one is mine? I think...letters on the wall...they're listed alphabetically, so I just need to look under the letter...the letter...

Fuck, what was it called again?

Crap...something starting with M? No wait, that's mida...mida...midasomething, I can't remember. No, it started with...H? Yes, H! Okay, row H...dammit, what was it _called_? H...ha...halo...halog? No...halotestin? No...halothane? No! Hell, maybe I should just take all of them and try them out...

"Well look who we have here."

I freeze like a rabbit caught in headlights...or a thief caught stealing drugs, at least. I turn my head - slowly, maybe I'm just hearing things - towards the source of that irritatingly calm voice. Fuck, I wasn't hearing things.

"You know," Adams says, that downright _creepy_ smile on his face as he leans casually against the wall. "Stealing is against the rules."

"So is forcing your patients into having sex with you, I'm sure." I hiss back. Adams puts on a look of mock-shock.

"_Forcing_? Heavens, I don't do _that_. If you don't want to do anything, Chazz, the simple solution is to refrain from taking the medication." He stops and glances at his surroundings. "Not try to steal them in the middle of the night after switching a particularly violent patient's medication. That's also against the rules."

"That wasn't me," I lie. "You can't prove it."

"I think I can. Firstly, the nurse in charge of the medical trolley recalled you distracting her earlier, during which you could've switched the mediations around-"

"_Or_ she could have messed up herself; these things happen," I deny.

"-And secondly, you happen to be holding the earlier patients actual medication in your hand," Adams points out. I glance down at the needle I used as a lockpick earlier. Damn, how the hell am I going to going to get out of this one...? "You took that from the trolley, I presume."

"Nu-uh. I picked it up from one of the shelves," I say. It's not over yet...I can still talk my way out of this...

"And filled the needle by yourself? Now why would you do that?"

"I...I felt like it..." The excuse dies on my tongue. Dammit...I'm as good as caught, I know.

"Strange, I've been stood here for a while, and I don't recall you going all the way over there just to fill a needle," He gestures to the other side of the room. "There's no point denying it Chazz, I _know_. You switched that man's medication so you could come here and steal your own drugs - despite the fact you knew you weren't supposed to have them."

"It's your fault!" I yell suddenly - when all else fails, go for volume. "You drove me to this! You _forced_ me to take action!"

"I think not, Chazz," Adams shakes his head, unfazed by my outburst. "You chose to do this, and for that you must be punished."

"Punished...?" My stomach twists. I don't like the sound of that...

"Yes, punished. You've broken just about every rule in Pandora ever since you arrived here, and I've been far too lenient on you. Now it's time you learnt your lesson."

"Wh-what are you going to do?"

"You'll find out soon enough," He pushes himself away from the wall and walks past me. "Follow me."

* * *

"Patient number 4021, Charles Princeton." 

_Chazz_, I scold silently in my head, but I don't say it out loud - now's not the time or place. I'm stood before a semi-circle of important doctors, all staring down at me from behind their polished desk. Adams stands beside me, and I can practically feel the smugness radiating off him. His face, however, is blank.

"Dr Adams, if you would like to explain..."

"Of course," He steps forward. I consider turning around and bolting for the door, but I'm flanked by two large guards. "Charles here has broken almost every rule in the book, and whilst I am not one of the stricter doctors here, I think it is time he is punished. Tonight, after curfew, I caught him breaking and entering the medicinal cabinets in the hopes of stealing drugs he had been previously denied, haloperidol to be exact."

"That's because-" But I'm silenced with a look from one of the panel. What, so I'm not even allowed to defend myself?

"I believe he is also responsible for the drugs mix-up earlier this evening - the nurse in charge of the medical trolley reported a possible distraction by Charles, and I also found him in possession of a prepared needle of the medication intended for the other patient."

They nod and write it down. Oh _come on_, so what if I switched some loser's medication? No-one was hurt, right? Or at least, no-one that I know of...

"He has also broken other rules, including violence towards others-"

"What?" I stare at him, dismissing silencing glares. "When did I ever hurt anyone?"

"-Namely a visitor, Mr Jaden Yuki," Adams continues, ignoring me. "Charles had a hallucinogenic episode and broke free of the guards, possibly injuring Mr Yuki on the mouth-"

"I _kissed_ him for crying out loud!"

"-Who then had to be escorted, along with the other visitors, off the premises," Adams finishes. "He has also committed violence towards himself, namely with aggressive scratches to his arms-" He nods to a guard, who seizes my unbroken wrist and holds it up, despite my protests, for everyone to see the faint scars still littering the skin. Some of the panel exchange whispered words.

"He also attempted to escape via the air vents in his room, and when the guards found him and tried to escort him to me, he broke free and ran into the showering area, refusing to come out for three hours, and in the end had to be forcibly removed," Adams goes on. "He has argued with me and the guards - one of whom he bit whilst being searched on his first day here - and has proved very disruptive to the other patients."

"Don't you make out like you're the innocent one!" I take a step forwards, but the guards seize me back. "You put me on those drugs just so you could take me straight back off them, and then I'd have to come crawling to you and-"

"Mr Princeton is also, you'll find in your reports of him, a compulsive liar," Adams says quietly.

"What?! I am not!"

"I _did_ take him off the antipsychotic drugs, yes - as is the standard medical proceedure when it is evident the drugs are not working, even at the maximum allowed dosage," He tells the others. "Of course, I did not anticipate this would happen..."

"You mustn't blame yourself, Dr Adams," One of the panel waves a hand casually. "What do you propose the discipline shall be?"

"There is only one option available. I suggest..." Adams hesitates - yeah right. He's probably had this planned from the beginning. "...Charles Princeton should be moved to a high-security cell until further notice."

Everyone in the room mutters to one another at this suggestion. I feel the slightest bit of fear creep into me: high-security cell? It doesn't sound _that_ bad...but judging by everyone's reaction, it must be pretty serious...

"Alright then," One doctor announces after the talk has died down. "You will be in charge of him, I presume?"

"Of course," Adams nods curtly, and I feel another wave of dread - in charge of me? That can't be good...

"In which case we'll have him transferred immediately. That will be all." Everyone rises from their seats to leave taking files and reports with them, murmuring quietly to each other. Adams turns around, and I feel a spike of nervousness at the gleam in his eye.

"Well then Charles," He says pleasantly. His voice makes me want to throw up. "We had better get you moved to your new room, hadn't we? This way," He breezes past me. I don't want to follow, but the guards shove me forwards and I go stumbling after him, out of the room and down whispering white corridors.

_You must leave, you must go, you must escape..._

"I wish I could..." I mumble in reply. One of the guards glances at my sudden speech, but shrugs it off and continues leading me through the twisting maze of halls that seem to grow more menacing with each step. I hear a faintly muffled sounds from somewhere, too quiet to make out. Shadows dance along the walls beside us from the flickering lights, and the sharp scent of antiseptic assaults my senses. Where are we? This place is different from the rest of the building...

"In here," Adams announces, opening a grey door and leading me into another room. The walls are covered in racks of white...clothing? I _think_ it's clothing...

"Let's see...this one should do," Adams muses, picking one of the pieces out. He turns to the guards. "You two know what to do. I'll go find a cell for him, give me a call when you're done."

"Yes sir." One of the guards takes the clothing from Adams, and the doctor swiftly leaves the room. I hear the lock click behind me.

"Right," The guard holding the clothing says as he takes it off the wire hanger, his back facing me. "Let's not make things difficult. You co-operate and it'll be better for all of us."

He turns around and holds up the item. My eyes widen when I see what it is.

A straightjacket.

I scream.

* * *

I know, I know, I'm cruel, but it's a necessary step! Sooo...you wanna find out what happens next chapter? Well then you had better review, hadn't you? Go on, push the button. You know you want to. I'll give you a cookie. 


	6. Forfeiture

Part six, peoples, and the darkest one yet. Those of you with a nervous disposition, look away now. Or, um, click the back button or something.

**Warnings: **This chapter is probably be reason the story is rated M; there's a **lemon** I've tried not to make too graphic...which could or could not count as non-con, depending on your view, though I would say it is. Use and abuse of **drugs**, **swearing** and general unpleasantness.

**ZomBRI: **Well, it wasn't intended to be laughed at...but hey, whatever works.

**Coco Gash Jirachi: **Geez, you're all more mental than Chazz...and did you get that Jaden thing from fairly odd parents?

**The Goddess Azure Thunder: **Ah, well...the thing about that is...

**Littlest-Angel: **Hello! (gives cookie) Here you go. Nah, I never pictured Adams as Sartorious, since he doesn't look like that in my mind, but I suppose he's a lot like him, huh? With the whole eerily calm thing going on, and the general creepiness factor...and all the white _is_ reminiscent of season two. Haha, I'm glad you picked up on the ego thing, I hoped someone would. And a black straightjacket? Hm...not a bad idea, actually...

**Garnet-Crystals: **Yay, new reviewer! Thank you for the comments - I planned to show some of the other residents of Pandora, but I'm not big on OCs, so I figured I better not. Plus, since it's from Chazz's POV, the story is centred purely around him. Ah yes, the seeds are sown for the start of ChazzJaden...cue evil laughter.

**Sandaa:** Aw, thank you! Hey, you don't need to be a writer to have an account here - many people are just reviewers and critics, and they contribute to the site just as much as the authors do. I'm glad you like the story so much, since I work so hard on each chapter, it's good that someone really appreciates it.

Did I mention that I don't own yugioh GX?

* * *

Delirium, part six (Forfeiture) 

I've gone to hell.

There's no other way to explain it; I've died and gone to hell. I don't even _believe_ in hell, along with the rest of that religious junk, but here I am: bound in a straightjacket and staring at padded walls, dim sunlight filtering through the slit in the wall they call a window. Faces shift and form in the pattern of the walls; I blink and they're gone. I daren't lean against any of the walls in case they get me, so I stay hunched up in the middle of the cell, ignoring a protesting spine, watching with guarded eyes.

And I'm not the only one here. You hear them through the soundproof walls, whispering and wailing and chattering and crying and shrieking and shouting and howling and-

"SHUT THE HELL UP, DAMMIT!" A cracked, hoarse voice screeches from my sore lips, "IS IT REALLY SO MUCH TO ASK FOR SOME FUCKING _PEACE AND QUIET_ AROUND HERE?!"

They go silent after that.

"Now what is all that racket?" A female voice says. I look up to see some kind of nurse enter the room with a guard, who stands sentient at the door. The nurse walks over to me, setting down a plastic bowl of water with a sponge among other things.

"Let's see...4021, Charles Princeton, right?" She smiles. I nod numbly. "Dr Adams sent me. He mentioned that you weren't looking so good, and asked me to come and get you cleaned up. Is that alright with you?"

I frown: Adams is behind this? But why? He doesn't care about me, just about what he can get from me, so why...?

"Charles?" The nurse asks again. "Are you listening?"

"What - oh," I blink. It's suspicious why he'd do this, but I can hardly turn down a free clean, especially after - how long has it been? A week? - deprived of a shower. With that in mind, I nod my head.

"Alright then!" She says cheerfully, "Let's get you out of that straightjacket - and no trying anything or the guard will have to restrain you, and we don't want that, do we?"

"Stop talking to me like that," I snap irritably, "I'm fifteen, not five."

"Okay!" She beams, not fazed in the slightest. She goes about unbuckling the straightjacket until it falls to the ground. My arms tingle after being bound for so long, too sensitive to move. They fall uselessly on the floor, starting to cramp up.

"Let's get you cleaned up then," She runs her fingers through my hair, noticeably limp and lacklustre after a week without washing, "Hmm, there's not much I can do about your hair, I'm afraid, but maybe a quick wash would help..."

She pulls me out of the shirt and shorts I wear underneath the straightjacket, leaving me to sit awkwardly on the floor with my legs pressed tightly together and red dusting my cheeks. She doesn't seem to notice though, chatting away happily as she sponges down an arm I can't lift by myself:

"You're so lucky to have Dr Adams looking out for you, you know," She tells me, unable to see the look of disbelief on my face, "He doesn't usually get this involved with his patients, but he really seems to have taken a shine to you."

"A shine, huh?" I comment dryly.

"He's one of the nicest doctors here - not to mention one of the best. I guess people overlook him because of his age," She continues, not paying much attention to me, "He hasn't even reached 30 yet, and already he's secured such a high position. Such an achievement, and he's so handsome too..." She pauses to sigh dreamily. I resist the urge to snort - evidently this woman knows nothing about Adams.

"Anyway, he must care quite a bit about you to arrange this," She absentmindedly gestures towards the tub of water as she scrubs my bare legs, "Bathing is a luxury for high-security patients, since they can't be trusted outside of their straightjackets, but Dr Adams said you'd be alright. Funny, I didn't think someone like you would end up here, you're such a quiet little thing-"

Because I can't get a word in edgeways, I think.

"-And you certainly don't seem like the sort of person who'd do anything bad. Why are you in here again?" I open my mouth to answer, but she does it for me, "Oh that's right, switching that man's medication. He's here too, you know, in the cell next to yours."

Hm. So _that's_ who keeps howling at the moon.

"Heavens, the damage caused that night! They say one of the guards was killed, you know," She says, lifting a jug of water and pouring it over my head, causing me to yelp, "But you don't look like the kind of person who'd cause all that trouble. Why, when Dr Adams sent me here I thought you'd be one of those violent types, the thought scared me half to death - but here you are, meek as anything, and so pretty too," She pats my head fondly.

"Pretty?!" I start, but the feel of water trickling down my back silences me with a shiver. She rubs a bit of soap into my hair, then dumps another jug of water on me, soaking the padded floor.

"Anyway, I was even _more_ nervous when I heard about you an the reason you're in Pandora from some of the other nurses - gossip goes around like that. Didn't you kill your brothers or something?"

"Tried to," I grunt, relaxing when a warm sponge rinses my back. Ah, that feels nice...

"I wouldn't know; it was all hushed up before the papers could get to it," She continues, moving the sponge over my back and shoulders. "You don't _look_ like someone who'd up and attack their siblings, but I guess appearances can be deceiving. You shouldn't worry about it too much, though - we all go a little crazy sometimes."

"I'm not crazy," I retort.

"My, your hair is long!" She exclaims suddenly, ignoring my response, "You wouldn't think so when it's all spiky, but it trails all the way down your back...you reckon if I comb it right, it'll stay down?"

"I don't _want_ it down," I snap, "I like my hair spiky."

"Mm-hm," But she's too busy combing my hair down to listen to me, "Oh doesn't that look cute? I can see why Dr Adams looks out for you, you're so adorable!"

"I am _not_ adorable!" I protest vehemently.

"Of course not," She pats my head again, to my annoyance, "I brought some fresh clothes for you to change into, by the way."

I snatch the neatly folded clothing she presents me with, turning my back to her and hastily dressing. "...Thanks," I mumble when I'm done.

"Oh, and polite too! Manners are such a rarity nowadays, you hardly hear people saying please and thank you anymore-"

"That's quite enough, Polly," Says a calm voice.

I feel a wave of anxiety at the sight of Adams leaning against the doorframe - how long has he been there? Did he see me changing? Why didn't I notice him earlier?

"Oh, Dr Adams! I didn't expect to see you here," The nurse - Polly - simpers, a faint blush painted across her cheeks. Hmph, just like a schoolgirl.

"You know I like to keep a check on my patients. Are you done with Charles?"

"Hm? Oh, yes - he was ever so polite as well," She chatters, gathering everything together, "So shall I leave you two to talk then?"

"That would be appreciated," Adams glances at me, interpreting my murderous stare, "Don't forget to put the straightjacket back on him."

"Of course," She picks up the jacket and sees me flinch, "Now now, Charles, there's no need to be scared. Into the jacket you go."

I don't want to - hell, would anyone want to? - but there's no point in resisting. So on it goes, buckled up, and my arms start cramping up again. The nurse says her goodbye and gets up to leave the room.

_Don't go_, I plead silently, but she's already gone, along with the guard, and so is my shield against Adams. He looks at me meaningfully.

"My, Mr Princeton, you do get yourself in some states."

"Shut the hell up," I growl. He laughs.

"Such language! And the nurse said you were polite...evidently she doesn't know you very well."

"She doesn't know _you_ very well, since she thinks you're one of the _nicest_ doctors here, and I'm _so_ lucky to have you watching out for me. Hmph," I roll my eyes.

"Why Chazz, I _am_ one of the nicest doctors here. If any of the other top doctors wanted you in their bed, they'd drag you kicking and screaming, or at least drugged up. _I_, on the other hand, am prepared to make a fair exchange, which I would suggest you reconsider."

"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" I remark idly, "Like one of those telephone salesmen."

"You should be thanking me," Adams says, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice, "I've taken the upmost care of you, granting you luxuries any other patient would have been denied."

"Please, you did that for you, not for me," I interrupt, "Washing my hair, giving me fresh clothes - don't think I don't know what you're doing. You're just dressing up the doll before you play with it."

"A doll would have more sense," He points out, "I'm only trying to help you."

"It's your fault I'm in here to start with!"

"So let me get you out," His eyes glint, "I'm the only one who can, after all."

I narrow my eyes: "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh but Chazz, you're my charge; it's up to me to judge your behaviour and thus what happens to you," He tilts his head to the side slightly, "You won't be allowed out of high-security until I give the say-so. Of course, my judgement can be swayed..."

"Son of a bitch," I spit, "Blackmail is illegal."

"And attempting to murder your older siblings isn't?" He retorts calmly, "You're one to talk, Chazz; breaking the law is what landed you here in the first place."

"What a fine role model you make," I mutter under my breath.

"Why Chazz, I'm teaching you a valuable life lesson: you can't have your own way all the time, and sometimes compromises have to be made," He glances at me, "Are you willing to compromise?"

"_No_," I snap.

He heaves a sigh, "Then you evidently haven't learnt anything. Contemplate your options, Chazz - it can be yours: freedom not only from your hallucinations, but from this prison cell, and back to your old room. All you need to do...is say yes."

I remain silent. He shakes his head.

"Have a think about it," He tells me, and takes off his wristwatch, dropping it on the ground, out of my reach. The time reads 1:30 PM. "I'll be back at 10:00 - your choice. Good day, Mr Princeton."

* * *

9:45 PM and I'm still thinking about it. I glance at the watch still lying motionless on the floor; 15 minutes to go, 15 minutes... 

The decision _should _be easy enough - no. Hell no. No fucking way. And yet...and yet...

I don't know if I can face another sleepless night in this..._cell_, otherwise I really _will_ go crazy. Sometimes it gets so loud it's unbearable, yet other times it's so silent it hurts. I don't want another day of watching in case something decides to come crawling out of the walls, or not being able to feel my arms because they're bound so tightly.

It'd be so easy...just to...give in...

No, I can't! I can't give into him! Anyone but him! I can't sell my body, it's the only damn thing I have left - if I don't have that, what _do_ I have?

10 minutes to go.

But what else can I do? Adams said he was the only one who could get me out of here - and he isn't going to let me go until I give in. Why stay here, miserable and alone save unwanted company, when I could have everything I want?

But...I can't...anything but that...

5 minutes to go.

It won't be that bad, 15 minutes of unpleasantness at the most, and the reward will be worth it. I'll only have to do it once, it'll be the first and last time, then I won't have to do this again. I only want my dosage, there's no shame in that - and once I have that, everything will be fine. The hallucinations will go away, and I'll be sane again. And what's sex in comparison to sanity?

10:00 PM.

The door opens, and Adams walks in, glancing at me to see if I'm still awake; I stare back from my spot on the floor as he closes the door firmly behind him and walks over to me.

"Well?" He asks. A one-word question that requires a one-word answer.

"...Yes."

"I thought as much," He nods, kneeling down to undo the straightjacket. It crumples to the floor in a chaotic heap of belts and buckles.

"I want to know something," I say as my shirt slips over my head and follows the jacket, "Why me? Why not someone else?"

"Someone else?" He laughs softly, like the ocean, "No-one has fascinated me as you do, Chazz. When I first saw you I thought you were a pretty face - but talking to you, over time, it was apparent you were so much more," The shorts join the shirt - there's no more clothes now, just me sat there and him..._looking_. There's a carnal hunger in his eyes.

And then he kisses me.

It's forceful in the sense that it isn't - not hard enough to bruise, no unwelcome tongues worming into my mouth. It's just...a kiss. Mouth on mouth. Lips to lips. It's...frightening.

He pulls back, doctors coat shrugged off, working on his shirt. Each button comes undone with the slow, deliberate flick of his fingers, almost sensual. I shudder - I don't like how intimate he's making this. It's supposed to be an exchange, purely business. He treats it like a liaison.

The rest of the clothing quickly follows, and then he's over me, lips pressed to my throat, working his way down. I squirm slightly despite my efforts to stay still, biting down on my lip hard enough to hurt.

"You enthrall me, you know," He speaks, words like dissonance in the quiet air, "Such a paradox, Chazz: delicate as glass yet stronger than steel, like spider silk."

"Get on with it," I hiss, then don't say any more because I can feel my control slipping.

I can see his lips form a sultry smile, causing moonlight shadows to play across his face; "As you wish," He practically purrs. I feel sorry I asked.

One slender hand trails gracefully down my form, fingertips barely brushing the skin, causing tingles in it's wake. His hands are cold - freezing, even, causing me to shiver, though not purely from the temperature. Adams pauses.

"Don't be scared," He says somewhat sadly.

That glacial touch drifts between my thighs, nudging them apart, sickeningly gentle. There's another pause, the sound of a cap being unscrewed.

"This might hurt," He tells me, voice as chilled as his caress, "But it'll be worth it."

My gasp shatters the silence when a single finger pushes in. I shift slightly, trying to get used to the feeling while he moves slowly, cautiously. A second finger. Hah...this is weird, I've never felt anything like this before. I can't quite decide if it's pleasant or unpleasant - ah, third finger! Unpleasant! Definitely unpleasant!

_"Hush child,"_ My eyes open - who said that? Adams has a look of concentration as frosty fingers move around inside me - it wasn't him. But then who...?

_"Sshh, it'll be okay, everything will be okay, I promise,"_ The Voice again. It sounds like...kimono silk...

"That should do," Adams' voice cuts through the other, hauling my attention back to the present, "You'll need to relax for the next bit..."

Something pushes in. I yelp and tense up. The pain doubles.

"_Relax_, I said," He reprimands me, one hand drifting down to stroke between my legs. It's not really pleasurable per say, but it proves a slight distraction, at least. Even so, I'm horribly aware of it sinking deeper and deeper _inside_ me, until-

"Ah..." Comes the strained groan from Adams when he's fully in. His face is neutral as ever - I think he's mastered controlling his facial expressions - but the slight shaking of his shoulders gives him away. A diamond droplet of sweat cascades down his temple.

Gradually he starts to move - a slight rocking at first, then grinding in and out. I turn my head to the side and focus on the straightjacket on the floor, studying the creases in the heavy material, the shadows it casts over itself, the way the metal buckles catch the light...I listen to the noises, the rustle that the movement creates, heavy breathing laced with grunts and groans, the sound of silence - anything else, _anything_...

His body trembles when he reaches completion, and I feel a certain heat scald my insides, making me wince. Strangely enough, it doesn't linger, disappearing when he pulls out. I see him fumble around in the dark with something - ah, condom. Of course, he wouldn't want to leave any evidence lying about.

"I trust news of this encounter will stay between us?" He asks, still slightly breathless, "Although I doubt anyone would believe your word over mine."

"Yes," I answer quietly, almost whispering.

"Good. It's less hassle for us both this way," He hands me my clothing, which I stare at for five minutes before remembering I have to put it on. I've managed to put on my shorts by the time he's finished dressing.

Adams shakes his head when he sees me: "Slow," He comments before pulling my shirt over my head for me. He reaches into the front pocket of his coat, withdrawing a single injection, "Your medication, as promised."

"Yes," I repeat hollowly, holding out my unbandaged arm. He grips the wrist tight enough for a vein to be visible, resting the tip of the needle against my raised skin and slowly pushing. It hurts, briefly, followed by an immediate numbness that spreads through me like infection.

"I'll see to the other doctors about having you transferred back into your old room," He announces, putting the now empty needle back into his breast pocket, "In the meantime, you'll have to go back into the straightjacket."

"Yes," I say a third time. Adams frowns slightly at my lack of decent response, but slips the jacket back over my arms, fastening it at the back and standing up:

"Very well...I shall be seeing you tomorrow, Chazz."

He leaves, closing the door behind him, trapping me in the darkness. I stay sat upright for a few seconds, then suddenly fall over onto my side, making no effort to get back up. Something wet slides down my cheeks - but not tears. I'm not crying. Crying is for the weak.

Everything's numb now; my eyelids struggle to stay open, but can't. The other patients have started wailing again, but the sound is drowned out by The Voice, the same voice from earlier. Kimono silk brushes against my face - white, dotted with red.

_"Oh Chazz...what have you done...?"_

* * *

OMG review and I will, liek, luv u 4eva. Srsly. 


	7. Eschewal

Behold, part seven! This, ladies and gents...or just ladies...is the most action-packed chapter yet! Given the complete lack of action, that isn't really saying much, but it's very exciting! You'll pass out just from reading it! (not guaranteed; results may vary)

**Warnings: **Implied **sex**, some **bad language** (as if you're not used to that by now) and lots of **medical vocabulary**. Otherwise pretty tame though, so no need to worry. And now...the review replies! I notice the considerable increase in reviews after that lemon...coincidence? I think not.

**Garnet-Crystals: **I am? Phew, that's good to know - him being OOC was my biggest reservation, so I'm glad you think he's still in-character.

**Seto's Nice Girl: **We shall see, my dear, we shall see...

**Coco Gash Jirachi: **JUICE AND POPTARTS! Yay. Yep, Aster is named after a flower, Sartorious is named after a leg-muscle, Syrus is named after a folktale fairy-king (sexual innuendo!), and...hey, who's the one named after a cut?

**PinsAndButtons: **Heh, talk about irony.

**Sandaa: **I figured Chazz would seem like the sort of person who'd never, _ever_ admit to crying. You thought it was that good? Wow, thanks! Your comments really brighten up my day :) But, um, about the picture thing...I didn't receive anything! You'll have to try emailing it to me instead.

**T: **Hm, good point - I've researched mental illness enough, but not really psychiatrics themselves...oh, and thank you for reviewing Monochrome! that makes me so happy!

**The Goddess Azure Thunder: **Um...okay...

**Littlest-Angel: **omg I am, liek, ttly shwing u teh luv...argh, net-speak makes my brain hurt. Eh...29 might be a little young, but I never pictured Adams as old (funnily enough, he resembles Seto Kaiba, but with different hair) since I didn't want your stereotyped pervert. Although he _is_ a pervert, and a rapist, since Chazz is 15 in this fic (and also, sadly, a virgin). I'm glad you liked Polly! She's kind of Jaden-esque, isn't she? What with being so happy and all...and you'll have to find out what happens next!

**XxAnimeFelinexX: **Ah, well you'll have to wait and see, won't you? Although you should be able to figure it out if you read the previous chapter carefully...

I do own yugioh GX, I do! Oh wait...no I don't...

* * *

Delirium, part seven (Eschewal) 

"You haven't been eating," Adams remarks.

I say nothing. Almost a week later and here I sit in the familiar office, staring down at my knuckles whilst Adams watches me patiently. The sound of the grandfather clock fills the room: _tick tock tick tock tick-_

"You do realise attendance for meals is compulsory?" He continues softly, "But you've been hiding in your room instead of going to the cafeteria. Why?"

_-tock tick tock tick tock-_

"Chazz," He says, firmer this time, "Please tell me why you haven't been eating."

"Not hungry," I mumble at last.

"You haven't touched food in three days, you must be hungry," He reminds me, "You need to eat, Chazz, otherwise you'll get sick," He pauses, "Do you _want_ to get sick?"

I gaze at the floor determinedly, studying the red carpet. Red. Red lips. Red on white. Red on Slade. Red everywhere-

"You were already underweight when you came here, Chazz; missing meals could prove very hazardous to your health," Adams interrupts my thoughts, "You know what'll happen then, don't you? I'll have to register you as anorexic, and then someone will have to supervise your mealtimes. You don't want to be treated like a child, do you?"

I shake my head soundlessly, gazing at the clock; the swinging pendulum catches the light whenever it swings towards the window, and creates a rythm of sound: _tick tock tick tock tickety tock tock tockety tick tick tickety tock tock tockety tick-_

"-Chazz?" I feel cold hands clasp my face and tear my vision away from the clock to meet Adams' blue and slightly concerned gaze as he leans over his paper-littered desk.

"...What?" I mumble tiredly.

He shakes his head; "Semi-comatose state again. It sometimes occurs before a hallucination...did you see anything?"

"I...clock...thing..." I say, feeling slightly dizzy. Was the clock...singing to me? But clocks don't sing...do they? Some alarm clocks sing...Ojama Yellow sings every morning loud enough to wake the dead, never mind just me...where is Ojama Yellow anyway? And Black and Green and Blue and - wait, there wasn't an Ojama Blue...

"Do you need more medication?"

My head snaps up; Ojama Blue disappears abruptly. Medication...I know what he's offering, what he wants...

"I'm still sore," I'm telling him no, not another exchange, not now, not _ever_-

"After a week?" He raises an eyebrow, "I suppose you have a frail build...but no matter, there are other methods of bargaining."

"There are?" I perk up. Maybe I can get my drugs without losing my dignity in the process... "How?"

"Well, come over here for a start."

I get up from my seat slowly, cautiously. I wasn't exactly lying about my back being sore - it does hurt, especially if I move too fast. Carefully, I make my way over to him; his eyes follow me the entire time.

"Good...now, get onto your knees..."

My eyes widen in shock; I stumble back and dull pain flares through the bottom of my spine, "N-no!" I cry at once. I think even _Jaden_ could figure out what he wants me to do. And I won't do it - I _can't_ do it!

"Now now, Chazz, it won't be that bad," Adams assures me, "You'll get the hang of it soon enough."

"I won't!" I shake my head rapidly, shake those horrible images from my head, "I won't do it! I _won't_!"

"You're getting hysterical, Chazz," He replies calmly, "That behaviour will land you back in the maximum security cell."

"Son of a bitch," I say hoarsely, vision blurring, throat closing - _not_ crying! "I'll kill you, I'll fucking kill you..."

"In that case I'll get the straightjacket ready-"

"Wait!" I cry. He pauses half-arisen from his chair:

"Hm? Changed your mind already?"

I don't say anything.

"As I thought. Let's begin, shall we?" He relaxes back into his chair. I swallow the lump forming in my throat, and descend to my knees.

* * *

I shake my head; "I don't want to." 

The male nurse sitting opposite me sighs, "I'm afraid it's mandatory, Mr Princeton. You need to eat it all."

"But..." I stare at the plate of food in front of me. Registered as an anorexic with a supervisor at mealtimes. But I'm _not_ anorexic! I'm just...not very hungry, that's all.

"You can't leave until you eat it," The nurse says firmly. I sigh and pick up a drooping sandwich. All this fuss over nothing...I only skipped a few meals, it's not like I'm deliberately starving myself...

I take the first bite. Hmph, too much cheese. And it's that nasty processed cheese that tastes like mouldy plastic - can plastic even go mouldy? Who cares, that's what it tastes like. Well how do _you_ know? What? I said how do _you_ know it tastes like mouldy plastic? It just _does_, alright?! That's not a very good explanation-

"I don't want to eat anymore," I put the sandwich down.

"You have to eat, your weight is low enough as it is," The nurse tells me, "Why don't you try something else?"

I grumble and pick up the green apple, cringing when I've taken a bite out of it - too sweet! I chew slowly, swallow down, take another bite. My stomach churns uncomfortably - after four days of not eating, it isn't used to food, even if it's only a few bites.

"By the way," The male nurse speaks, watching me swallow a second bite, "Adams wanted to see you later today."

I freeze, eyes widened. Drop the apple. It bounces on the table and rolls off the edge.

"Mr Princeton?" The nurse frowns, "Are you alright?"

"I'm going to-" Stomach heaves, body lurches forward. I manage to twist my head to the side in time to miss the table as stomach empties itself onto the floor.

"What happened?" The nurse stands up, the gasps when he sees me, "W-wait right here, I'll go get help," He dashes off. I try to stand up, but everything spins crazily, becoming a blur of colour. Where am I? What's going on? Who are you? Who am I? I topple sideways, landing on the floor with a splash. Splash? There's liquid here...barely-digested apple and cheese sandwich. And...something white...swirls around like strands of silk.

"What-" I try to say, but my stomach lurches again, onto the floor. Ugh, no talking. Talking _bad_...my heart flutters weakly in my chest: _tick tock tick tock tickety tock tock tockety tick tick tickety tock tock tockety tick-_

Would you look at that, my hand is blue.

Hands wrap around me, pulling me off the floor, jostling my body painfully. I try to fight them - no, don't take me there, I don't want to go! - but I'm too weak. Shouting, right in my ear, head hurting, ow ow ow _ow_-

* * *

_"What happened?"_ A familiar voice, sharp and snappy, contrast to the usual serenity. 

_"H-he just threw up, so I ran to get help-"_

_"How long was he left alone for?"_

_"A few minutes, I think-"_

_"Idiot, he could have died in those few minutes. What's his symptoms?"_

_"Hypotension: blood pressure is 80 over 40," _Another voice, unrecognised, _"Hyperventilation and cyanotic skin."_

_"He's gone into shock, then. Luckily it's not refractory...get an IV tube, he needs fluids. Keep him warm - do we have an electric blanket?"_

There's a sensation in my right arm - not painful, just...there. Footsteps scurry around, distant voices, orders. Then...warmth. Ah, that's nice. That's very nice.

_"You, keep his legs lifted up. Is his air passageway clear? Good, get an oxygen mask on him, make sure he can breathe as freely as possible. How's his blood pressure?"_

_"Increased to 90 over 50; it's still low, but it's an improvement. He still looks pretty pale though..."_

_"That's his natural skintone - an improvement from grey anyhow,"_ A hand touches my chest, _"Breathing is stable...he seems to be over the worst of it. I'll take care of things from here."_

_"Yes, Dr Adams."_ Footsteps, multiple people leaving the room. Someone lets out a sigh of relief and I feel the mattress sag slightly with the weight of a second person.

"Chazz? Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?"

"Don' wanna..." I mumble, trying to stay in dreams of white and red silk, but waking up regardless. I open my eyes blearily, see the hazy face of Adams in front of me, "Oh. You."

"Nice to know I'm loved," He shakes his head, "I suppose you'll want to know what happened? You went into shock a while back and had to be brought here, the emergency room. You'll need to remain here until your condition is stable."

"Shock...why...?" I manage to say, jaw feeling oddly slack.

"A mixture of things. Firstly not eating - I _did_ tell you skipping meals could damage your health," He looks at me disapprovingly, "That and fatigue - I take it you haven't been sleeping so well either - stress and hypotension."

"Hypo...what?"

"Hypotension - low blood pressure. It's a side effect of the medication you take, haloperidol. Although it's not normally this severe...but then, you're taking above the maximum recommended dosage. I'll assume that was the main factor for the shock."

I try to move my left arm - and can't, only a dull tingling. Panicked, I try to move my right arm; it obediently pulls out from underneath the warm blanket only to reveal-

"Holy fuck, my arm is blue!" I say. Or try to say, but the words come out more slurred than a drunkard. Adams sees me staring at my gray-blue hand and catches on, however.

"Yes, that's a symptom of shock, caused by lack of blood; it'll retain it's normal colour shortly. You might find your limbs paralysed or difficult to move as well - it's only temporary. We managed to halt the shock before any lasting damage was done, so no worries," He brushes back a few strands of hair stuck to my clammy forehead, "How do you feel, Chazz?"

"Tired...dizzy...ick," I get out, too exhausted to protest the fact that he's touching me.

"I thought so. Just try to get some rest for now, I'll be back later to see how you're doing," He stands up and walks to the doorway, pausing before he exits, "Oh, and I'll mix your haloperidol with some high blood pressure-inducing drugs; that way you shouldn't have any major health risks come our next exchange."

There's terror at those last words: next exchange? So he isn't going to...give up? Give me a break, at least? He'll just carry on as normal?

The thought makes me want to throw up again.

"Please take better care of yourself in the future; next time you might not be so lucky. Shock is a very serious occurrence after all," His eyes bore into my own with startling cerulean intensity before he turns and leaves with the words: "Adieu, Mr Princeton."

* * *

So now he's gone, and I'm alone. 

The first thing I try to do is sit up; nausea swamps my senses and my arms tremble and give way so that I flop back down. I blink a few times to clear the spots from my vision, heart pounding painfully in my chest, corresponding with the beeping machine next to me.

_'Next exchange...'_

I can't take this anymore. It's...too much. As long as I stay here, Adams will keep doing this to me again and again until either he gets bored or I break in two. And at the moment, I'm pretty close to breaking; I was sane before I came here, now I'm not so sure. I need to get out of here before I completely lose my mind.

I have to escape, I _have_ to.

_We warned you to leave earlier, _say the walls, so unfamiliar, I haven't heard them in so long... _We told you this would happen. You did not listen._

"I know," I shake my head, "I'm listening now. How do I escape from here?"

_Use the vents._

"Ah, the classic escape route. Just so long as I don't get sprayed with red this time," I try to sit up again, slower this time; in the space of a few minutes I eased myself upright. Now just to swing my legs off the side of the bed and-

-Ow. Face-first on the floor with a painful thud, legs sprawled uselessly behind me. Fuck, why won't my legs work? They're still tinged with blue...still under the effects of shock, I guess. But I can't let that stop me! I need to escape no matter what!

Clutching the IV stand for support, I haul myself onto my wavering feet, taking in slow, steady breaths. The heart monitor shows my increased pulse; I tear the rounded pads off my chest and the machine falls silent. There's a ventilation grate positioned high up on the wall above my bed - if I can balance on the headboard, maybe I can reach it...

I climb onto the bed unsteadily, weight pressed against the wall. The IV stand drags noisily behind me, so I rip out the needle - _ow_ that stings! - and let it roll away. Shaking hands rise up to unscrew the metal grid, which squeaks rustily and comes undone. Climbing onto the bed frame, I gain enough height to grip the sides and pull myself up. the strain on my injured wrist is enough to make me gasp, but I persevere and soon I'm inside the metallic tunnel.

"Oh yes, _The Chazz_ has done it again," I whisper, and begin pulling myself forwards with my arms. It's by no means easy - my legs drag heavily behind me, and the metal and mostly-bare skin cause unpleasant friction - but at snail's pace I crawl through. I soon pass another barred opening and glance through to see the white corridor, a few patients and nurses strolling about. They can't see me...they could hear me though, so I had best be quiet. After all, if anyone figures out I've escaped, the whole place will be in uproar and I'll be caught faster than you can say Ojama.

I inch along silently, turning corners with ease, glancing out of all the vents to keep track of where I'm going. And eventually I arrive at...just outside the emergency room. What?! Did I just come full circle?! You've got to be kidding me-

All the lights go out.

A shriek very nearly - _nearly_, I said - tears from my throat, but I clap a hand over my mouth, forcing silence. Of course, it must be 9:00 PM - curfew. Not necessarily a bad thing, since everyone will be in their rooms instead of in the corridor. However, I hear footsteps coming down the darkened corridor, and lay still for fear of being heard. The door to the emergency room is opened.

"...Chazz?" Says that azure voice.

_Go!_ Scream the walls.

And boy, do I go. My limbs flail as I attempt to crawl away at maximum speed with minimum noise, and all I can think is: I have to escape, I have to escape, I have to escape, I have to escape...

"He's not here," I hear Adams say, sounding slightly baffled, and then: "Security!"

The alarm is raised - it's only a matter of time before they check the vents - I have to get out of here!

Please, please, please, please - I mouth it over and over again like a mantra as the footsteps of guards scurry below me. God, why did Adams have to visit my room then? And after curfew...was he there for another exchange?! I just went into shock for crying out loud! Is that man insatiable?!

"Initiate lockdown; he can't be allowed to escape," I hear Adams' voice almost directly underneath me, causing me to freeze.

"Isn't that a little too much-"

"For God's sake, he's underweight, hypotensive and recovering from shock! If he gets outside, he could die!"

Yeah, or tell the world what he's been doing to me - that must be the reason he's so panicked. Ha, me dying. As if. I re-start my struggle through the vents, plouging forwards with a renewed sense of desperation. And then...and then...

A dead end.

"No!" I cry, as all my energy seeps away into exhaustion. This is it...I tried to escape, but I couldn't, and now I'm trapped. Someone will find me, I'll be thrown straight back into the maximum security cell, and it'll be a living hell from there. With frustrated fury, I clash my fist against the metal floor of the vent...

...Only for it to groan and give way, leading me to fall down with a yelp and land in a cloud id dust. Ah, I landed on my injured wrists..._fuck_ that hurts, ow, ow, ow...where am I? Some sort of basement, walls painted a bleak grey and lined with lockers numbered 1562, 1563, 1564...

Waitaminute.

I dash over to locker 4021 and cautiously open it; inside is a dusty black jacket, faded black jeans, a purple turtleneck sweater and brown shoes. Clothing. _My_ clothing. this...this must be where they keep everyone's belongings until they're released! And they have my stuff!

...Or _had_ my stuff, heh heh. I reach for the pile of clothing, only to hear they scraping sound of a key in a lock. Swearing silently, I shut the door and hide behind some nearby boxes just as the door opens.

"Anybody down here?" The gruff voice of a guard calls. I duck as a narrow beam of torchlight swings in my direction, just missing the top of my hair.

"Well? Is he down there?" Adams' voice - geez, is this guy following me or something?

"I don't know..."

"Well go and _look_," The guard descends the dirty steps followed by the worried-looking doctor. Adams flicks a light switch, and dim light flickers from a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.

"Keep searching over there, I'm going to check his locker," He strides up to the rows of numbered lockers and - sweetholyfuckinglord, he's standing metres away from me, opening the 4021 locker. Please don't let him see me, don't let him see me...

"His stuff is still here - so he can't have come down here, otherwise he would have taken it," Adams remarks, and I thank whoever's up there that I didn't take the stuff from my locker before I hid. Adams' closes the lockers and begins searching the area and ohfuckhe'sgoingtofindme...

"No, no...nothing," Adams steps back from the boxes I'm hiding behind; I resist the urge to sigh in relief. It's a wonder he hasn't seen me though, since I'm kind of hard to miss...

Wait...

Of course, I'm covered in dust! When I fell onto the floor I got coated head to toe in dust and cobwebs...heck, I must be virtually invisible here!

"There's nothing down here. Let's keep searching upstairs," Adams says, making his way back towards the staircase. The guard with the flashlight does another fruitless sweep, then flicks off the light switch and heads upstairs. I wait until I hear the lock click and the footsteps thud away before letting out a slow, shaky breath. I grip the boxes as I haul myself to my feet, trying to stand on trembling legs.

All this adventure is going to be the death of me.

I proceed unsteadily back to the lockers - my legs are still sluggish and slow, but at least I can walk on them. I take the clothing from my locker, relishing in the scent of familiarity...and dust, apparently, that coat needs a trip to the laundry...

Closing the locker, I pick my way through the room, away from the set of stairs; the door's locked and even if I broke it down, I'd be caught in seconds. There _has_ to be a second way out of here...

And I see it. A small, grimy window, letting in only the most meager amount of light through the dust-coated glass. No-one else would have even noticed it, but to me...it has the word _FREEDOM_ scrawled all over it. This is it...my escape route...

I climb awkwardly onto a flimsy shelf, reaching out to open the window. It takes a few rough shoves, but eventually it swings open, leaving a gap just big enough for me to worm my way through. I get stuck about half way trough - and they said I was too thin - but after twisting a little, I fall out of the window and down the other side, landing more or less in a tangled heap of limbs. Just as well no-one can see me...

It's cold, is the first thing I notice. It's very, very cold...my breath mists in front of my face and my teeth chatter like dice. A sudden gust of cold wind seeps into my skin and causes me to shiver. Figures, I would have to escape in the middle of winter...I take a step forwards, the icy ground bites into bare feet - that does it, I'm putting my shoes on. The rest of my clothes will have to wait until later...now to continue with my daring escape:

I turn around the corner, see a field of flat concrete patrolled my frantic guards, tall watchtowers with searching spotlights - and after all that, a barbed wire fence with lethal-looking edges.

Now how the hell am I going to get past all this...?

* * *

Hm, a good question - how _is_ Chazz going to get past all this? Review and wait patiently for the next chapter to find out...Oh, and for all those who didn't understand the medical lingo, here's a brief summary: 

_Shock_ - you should all know what this is...a life-threatening medical state caused by lack of oxygen to parts of the body.

_Hypotension_ - low blood-pressure, which is associated with shock. Chazz's blood pressure was 80 over 40, which is below average.

_Hyperventilation_ - rapid breathing as the body tries to absorb more oxygen into the system.

_Cyanotic_ - the greyish-blue tone skin colour takes when in shock.

_Refractory_ - shock comes in four loosely-based stages; refractory is the final stage, when the body is beyond help, leading to coma and imminent death.

I did a lot of research into shock and hypotension for this, so it _should_ be written accurately...did you think it was okay? Be sure to tell me what you thought!


	8. Verisimilitude

Continuing with Chazz's daring escape from Pandora, it's chapter eight! Now, _this is fairly important: _due to a last-minute change in plotline (nothing major, just the details of how Chazzie escapes) I've had to go back and slightly edit part7 - remember how Chazz changed into his old clothing because it was too cold? Well, that didn't happen now, since...well, you'll see when you read.

Also, please check out my profile for news on updates.

**Warnings: **MORE ACTION! Hoo, at this rate we'll all suffer heart attacks...yep, it's full of action, **swearing** and later some **rape**. Non-graphic, however...but it's pretty obvious what happens. Not one of my kindest chapters.

**T: **Pursue writing as a career of psychiatric nursing? I hope it's the former...well, since Chazz is making his escape from the asylum there's no need for research now, but thank you for the offer.

**Coco Gash Jirachi: **Aw, Chazz is so cute when he insane. Why has Sartorious suddenly adopted the speech of a parrot? And Aster is going crazy! Muahahaha...

**ZomBRI: **Hm, a Dr Juudai wouldn't be so bad...but what are the chances that Juudai would rape anybody?

**Yami'c Chan: **O-okay! Just calm down!

**Foxxy1st: **I have no idea what 'adverges' means...I'll assume you mean reasons: none, really, it's just another complexity to add to the story - since hypotension is a side-effect of haloperidol (the drug Chazz takes) and he's deliberately overdosing, I figured him going into shock would be a realistic occurrence.

**Garnet-Crystals: **Thanks you! Nice to see someone appreciates my efforts - research is your friend, after all.

**PinsAndButtons: **That's probably exactly what Chazz is thinking.

**XxAnimeFelinexX: **Ah well, you'll have to wait and see...

**Massacre Maker: **Hell, _anyone_ would go insane with Adams as their doctor.

**Littlest-Angel: **Adams' POV? (blinks) That's a great idea! Except this entire story is meant to be told through Chazz's eyes...but maybe I could do it as a side piece, or an extra chapter at the end? Hm, this does sound promising...and nah, Chazz doesn't know he's gay yet - after all that rapey stuff, he's probably fairly anti-gay by now.

**Zaku: **I'll write as much as I can...but this story is difficult to get down, it keeps giving me writers block.

**amber:** Hey, thanks!

If I owned yugioh GX, it'd be full of pretty boys with catchphrases that sounded like sexual innuendos...so, pretty much the same as it is now.

* * *

Delirum, part eight (Verisimilitude) 

No. There's no way. It's impossible. Even if I ran like wildfire I'd never get past all that security.

But I can't turn back! I've come this far, I can't just give up now! Let's see...there must be _some_ way for me to get past all those guards without being noticed...wait, what if _I was_ a guard? If I can disguise myself, I'll get out of here without any trouble! Heh, another stroke of genius from _The Chazz_...now, how to steal a guards uniform?

Steal it from a guard, of course. I edge around the corner until I spot a pebble on the ground - perfect. I give it a light kick, enough to send it skittering away, then dash back to my hiding place. Looks like I've caught the attention of one of the searching guards; he proceeds cautiously towards me, flashlight in one hand - until I snatch it away and shine the blinding light in his eyes. He starts to call for help, but I jab a finger at his throat, silencing him. He falls back and I wrap my hands around his throat.

That's it...keep going, keep going...not yet...there we go. Silence.

He'll stay unconscious for a good few minutes; I yank off the trousers and shirt, pulling them over my white 4021 uniform and stuffing my dark clothes underneath to make myself seem bulkier. Grabbing his cap, I shove it over my black spikes as low as it'll go. That should do...he won't be too happy when he wakes up in his underwear, but whatever. Now to make my escape...

I jog through the swarm of guards, shining my torch everywhere, making it seem as though I'm looking for a runaway patient; the searchlights glide over me but don't recognise me. Eventually I make it to the barbed wire fence, walking up to guarded gates.

"Hey," I greet the grey-haired security guard, making my voice sound rougher and deeper than usual, "I'm gonna go search outside the premises for the escapee. Can I get past?"

"Searching outside? On your own?" He eyes me suspiciously.

"Orders of Dr Adams - there should be some other guys coming through later, but they're all too busy searching the building," I lie smoothly, "Everyone's in a panic...Dr Adams was pretty stressed too. All this over one kid?"

The other man laughs, relaxing somewhat, "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's 4021, though - the same kid who switched 3936's medication and got thrown into maximum security. He's been nothing but trouble ever since he got here," He shakes his head, "I say we shoulda locked him up and thrown away the key - but Dr Adams seems fond of him. I suppose I can see why, kid's as pretty as anything, but he's got a knack for breaking the rules. They've been too soft on him if you ask me."

"Well if he's that bad, I'd better get looking," I answer, trying to keep the anger out of my voice - too soft on me, are they? Try being bound in a straightjacket with the doctor blackmailing you into losing your damn virginity, we'll see if that changes your mind...

"Go ahead - but really, Dr Adams said the kid was recovering from shock, he can't have gotten that far," The guard shivers as he opens the door for me, "Heck, in this weather, he'd collapse before he made it anywhere. Be careful out there."

"Will do," I stroll past, through the car park and onto the icy road, making my way down the slight hill. When I'm far away enough, I switch off my torch and rip off the disguise, throwing it all aside. I did it. I actually did it.

I'm _free!_

...Although I'd better hurry if I want to _stay_ free. Let's see...I've heard some of the staff complaining about how late the trains are sometimes, which means there must be a train station nearby that takes them to work every day. If I can reach there, I'll be able to reach the city, and then they'll _never_ get me!

I shrug on my jacket against the cold, clutching the rest of my clothes to my chest to change into later, then run silently through the snow - I'm leaving footprints, but there's not much I can do about that. The guard I knocked out will have woken up by now...raised the alarm that I'm in disguise...the gate guard will have realised he just let me walk free...

My heart pounds irregularly in my ribcage, making my chest hurt and my throat burn; I can hear my own breath in short, convulsive gasps. Suddenly my legs give way and I land hard on the frosty ground; "No...not now..." I plead, willing my legs to work again, trying to steady my breath - if I just keep lying here like this, someone will find me and take me back - no, I don't want to go back! I'd sooner die!

After a few minutes I feel the sensation return to my legs, and manage to stand up carefully. I stagger the rest of the way, leaving disorientated footsteps in my wake. Please, please...I can't go back now, I can't...

And then up ahead, I see it: a small, desolate-looking train station sat by itself in the snow. I walk inside and glance at the train times up on the wall. Perfect. I should be able to get out of here soon.

I make my way over to the ticket-machine - there's no people sat behind desks here, the station is too small for that. There's only one platform, so I buy a ticket for the next train, which is in five minutes. I make a trip to the bathroom to change into my old clothes and throw the 4021 uniform out the window before walking to the platform and waiting for the train to arrive. It stops at the station only briefly, but long enough for me to get on and settle down in an almost-empty carriage. Just as I'm making myself comfortable, I overhear two men talking:

"...Just got a call from the loony bin not far away, they said a patient escaped..."

"From Pandora? I thought that place was meant to be inescapable?"

"Supposedly. They reckon he might've caught a train, so we're supposed to look out for him - 15 years old, skinny and pale with dark eyes and spiky black hair."

"Wait...so not only did someone get out of Pandora, but it was a little kid? What's a kid doing in a place like that anyway?"

"Hell if I know. They just said to look for him...and they mentioned that he's quite dangerous, caused a bit of trouble back at the asylum."

"Geez, do we even _want_ to find this guy?"

"Probably not, but let's look anyway."

Daminitalltohell, they're onto me. I run to the bathroom and lock myself in while the men search around the cabin, then sneak back out when they've passed. The train stops at another station and I get off at once; this is a busier station, I have to queue for tickets.

"The next train to Domino city-" I pause to cough heavily into my fist, "-One way ticket."

She gives me a wary glance, but prints out the ticket for me. I pay and walk through the station, aware of people glancing at me. What? What is it? Is there something wrong with my appearance? I rush to the toilet to check myself out - tired and a little haggard-looking, but otherwise fine. I comb my fingers through my hair to try and tame it, but it doesn't do any good. No matter...

The next train is almost full, but I manage to find a corner. People are staring at me...why are they staring? Okay, I look a little rough around the edges, but it's not _that_ bad. I turn my head sharply and lock eyes with a woman, who quickly turns away to avoid my gaze, looking out of the window; I glare at her for a good five minutes before turning away slowly. So they want to stare? Fine, let them. I'm the closest thing you'll get to perfection, so get a good long look while you can.

"Next stop, Domino city train station; repeat, next stop, Domino city train station," The announcement rings out. My mood lightens at that - Domino is a big city, and therefore an ideal hiding place - let's see Adams try and track me down _here_.

The train stops and the doors slide open; I'm caught up in the flood of people and pushed out of the train to make way for the people pouring in. Soon I'm outside of the station, watching my breath frost up in the wintry night air. What to do now? First things first, I suppose...might as well find a hotel and settle down for the night, I'll deal with everything in the morning.

...Wait.

I don't have any money left.

Fuck.

_Now_ what am I going to do? I blew all my money on train tickets, now I can't afford a hotel - not even one of those cheap, cockroach-infested places. Where am I going to sleep?!

I wander, wander - until I find a park. A park bench will do, right? I mean...it's hardly a suitable place, but it'll have to do. I walk over and settle myself down on one of the benches; no sooner have I shut my eyes to doze, when...

"Excuse me sir, you can't sleep here."

"What?" I look up tiredly - a policeman stands there, badge reading night patrol.

"You can't stay here sir, it's against the law to sleep in a public place. I'll have to ask you to relocate."

"But I don't have anywhere else to go!" I say pitifully.

"There's plenty of homeless shelters that'll take you in for the night - and who knows, maybe help you back on your feet. But either way, you can't stay here, you'll have to move."

"I - alright." I'm too tired to argue. I get up and trudge away from the park, back to the darkened streets. Homeless shelter, huh? It's degrading, but I suppose it's a place to stay...although on second thoughts, that might not be such a good idea. After all, if Pandora comes looking for me, the first place they'll check is homeless shelters and refuges - which means someone could tell them where to find me, and I'll get caught.

So, that's that option down. I stagger through the streets, shivering when an icy wind seeps right through my clothing and chills me to the bone. Everywhere's too exposed, too crowded, too dirty...when I'm too exhausted to fucking _care_, I stagger into a narrow alleyway and collapse behind some bins. Who cares about the broken bottles and bags of trash? I just want to get some sleep...

* * *

I wake up, and see two beady black eyes...a narrow snout...long whiskers...and two large rodent teeth. 

"Argh!" I bolt upright, and the rat falls off my chest with a squeak before scampering away. I sit breathing harshly for a few minutes, heart thumping erratically in my chest. Holy damn...what was it doing, sleeping on me? Damn rats...no I am _not_ scared of them! How would you feel if you woke up with a giant rat on your chest? Stop laughing!

I raise a hand to brush the fragment of broken bottle glass from my mane of hair, watching the green and brown shards litter the floor. The back of my coat is soaked, smells like...alcohol? Geez, was I so tired I went to sleep in a puddle of beer? I get up to walk out of the alley, stepping over a pile of...something. Puke? At least I didn't go to sleep in _that_. No wonder no-one else was sleeping here, it's a mess - _I'm_ a mess. But I don't have the money to get cleaned up.

No money...

Damn, what am I going to do with no money? All my bank accounts are frozen until I'm 18; I could 'borrow' from Slade's account since I know his PIN number - and he doesn't know that I know, I _know_ he doesn't know - but that could alert him I'm walking free, if he doesn't already know. Then they'd use the location of the cash machine I used to track me down and drag me back to Pandora...and of course I'd need his bank card...

So, no money, no way of getting money - I could work, but I doubt anyone would hire me as I am, and plus I need to lie low for a while. I could go to a homeless shelter and try to get help to start a new life - but again, too risky. At this rate, the only thing I can do is stowaway to another country where nobody knows me. I could go to Mexico, right? Isn't that where all the fugitives go? Let's see, what Spanish do I know...er, _No entiendo, hablo muy poco espanol_...

That's about it.

Should've paid more attention in Spanish tutoring...so going to Mexico probably isn't such a good idea. I suppose I'll just have to...live one day at a time, until the opportunity arises to better myself. Live for the here and now; and right now...I'm kinda hungry.

I can't go to a soup kitchen, since it's another place Pandora is sure to look. Which means I'll have to...ugh, I don't even want to think about it...go through someone's bins for scraps. Disgusting...but at the moment, survival outweighs pride.

There's a restaurant nearby; I sneak around the back and to the awaiting dumpster. Restaurants should have a lot of leftover food, right? I cautiously lift the lid and peer inside - the smell of week-old food overwhelms me and the lid slips from my hands, falling back into place with a loud crash.

"What the hell-" A balding man in a greasy apron comes out the back door an sees me standing there, "Hey you! Get away from my bins, you homeless scum!"

"But I-" I begin.

"I'm tired of it! Every night one of you lazy bums comes rootin' around my bins tryin' to find somethin' to eat - an' now you're doin' it durin' the day too!"

"I just-"

"Get out! OUT!" He picks up a stray beer bottle from the ground and chucks it at me. I duck instinctively and it shatters over my right shoulder, showering me with glass.

"There's no need to throw fucking _glass_ at me-" I start angrily, but he's picked up another bottle. I yelp and run out of the backstreet and onto the deserted road; the bottle crashes on the ground just behind me, followed swiftly by several others.

"Fuckin' good-for-nothin' tramps! Go and get a job!" He yells after me. I keep running, running, running...until my legs feel like they'll crumble and I collapse against a brick wall, fighting for breath.

Goddamn stupid...insensitive...bastard! My eyes burn and I rub them furiously with the back of my mind - I refuse to cry! Damnit, all I wanted was some food...it's in his bins anyway, he might as well give it to someone who needs it instead of just throwing it away...my stomach growls loudly in agreement. Five days...it's been five days since I actually ate something...guess all that hunger is starting to catch up with me.

I stagger forwards a few steps. Ah, I'm so _hungry!_ Even _Slifer_ food would do, just something to eat! I'm lost, starving, penniless, tired and one of those bottles that jerk threw smashed into my leg, so now it's all bruised and soaked in beer and it looks like somebody went and peed on me-

"Well looky what we have here," Says a gruff male voice. "Aren't you a little young to be working in these parts, sweetheart?"

_Sweetheart?!_ Who does he think he is, calling me - whoah, wait a minute. That sign over there says Roulette street. Roulette street...where have I heard that before? I know I've heard it mentioned somewhere...I look at my surroundings: a near-deserted street. A shady bar with a picture of a woman as it's sign. A pay-by-the-hour motel. Fucking hell...I know where I've heard the name Roulette street before...this is Domino city's red light district. And that man, he...

Holy fuck, he thinks I'm a prostitute.

"Not the talkative type, eh? No matter," The man before me continues when I don't answer him, "I know it's a little early in the day, but...how 'about you and me go have us a good time, eh?"

I snap my attention back to the man; "Hell no," I hiss, knowing exactly what he wants, "Go find yourself another playmate, I'm not for sale."

"Aw, don't be like that, beautiful," He insists, "Come on, name your price."

"Nothing doing, now fuck off," I turn to get the hell out of here when I feel him grab my arm. I whip around to face his smirking face; "What are you doing?"

"I've been looking for a while, doll. I 'aint taking no for an answer."

"Take your hands off me," I snarl. He doesn't comply. "Get the hell off me or I'll-"

"You'll what?" His eyes flash dangerously, "You 'aint in no position to be making demands, darling."

"I'll...I'll scream..." I say weakly - there's not a lot I _can_ do, but maybe if I attract someone else's attention...

He laughs, "Scream all you want, dollface; there 'aint no-one around to hear. And even if there were, you think they'd come running to save a hooker like you?"

"I'm not a hooker- hey!" I cry when he begins dragging me towards an alley, hand gripping my arm hard enough to bruise, "Let go of me! Let _go!_ HELP! Someone, help me!"

"I already told you, beautiful, there 'aint no-one around this time of day. We're the only ones here," He successfully hauls me into the dingy alley, not unlike the one I slept in earlier, "This spot'll have to do...let's see that body, sweetheart."

"No - _no!_ Get off!" I shriek when he pulls my jacket off and throws it aside. I try to fight him but I'm too weak - after a rough night and five days without food, any struggle saps all my energy. He managed to get my jumper over my head and feels the thick material curiously.

"Huh...'aint bad clothing for a whore. Dirty though...you been sleeping rough, darling?" He tosses the jumper to one side to join the coat.

"Stop it! Let me go!" I cry, still fighting weakly against his hold, "Get your filthy hands off me- _no!_" The thin fabric of my shirt gets ripped off, leaving me bare-chested.

"Damn, beautiful, look at you!" He lets out a low whistle, "Skinniest streetwalker I ever saw...when the hell did you last eat? Still, you got a pretty face to make up for it - looks kinda familiar, actually, though hell if I know where from...don't supposed you ever worked in the video industry, did you?"

"Let me go..." My voice comes out as a frightened whisper, "Please...just let me go..."

"No can do, darling - I started so I'll finish," He works on the zipper of my jeans and yanks them down, ignoring my anguished cry, "Cute underwear. Mighty fine legs you got going on though...I've always been a sucker for good legs; half the reason I walked up to you in the first place." He pins my arms above my head whilst he pulls my trousers and undergarments from my ankles, kicking them aside somewhere. Staring at my trembling form, he lets out a wolf-whistle. I close my eyes and turn my head away, cheeks burning with shame.

"I'd love to get undressed with you, doll, but looking at you like this, I don't think I'd make it in time," He grins and fumbles with his own zipper, "What you looking so sad for? You're a prostitute, aren't you? You do this every day."

"I'm not a prostitute," I choke.

"Sure you're not, sweetheart. Now let's see..." He nudges my legs apart with his thigh and spits on his hand before reaching down. I let out a strangled sob.

"Would you lookit that - you've already been broken into," He gives me an odd smirk, "Not a prostitute, eh? I'd have said you've loaned yourself out quite a few times before this. You 'aint a virgin, are you?"

I don't answer.

"Thought not," He withdraws his fingers, "Let's get started, beautiful. Time to do what you hookers do best."

* * *

"Not half-bad, darling. But then I already knew that when I laid eyes on you," The man says as he does up his fly. I slide down the cold brick wall, feeling it scrape against my back, and slump to the floor face-down. 

"Here," He throws a handful of paper money at my feet, "Buy yourself a meal, dollface, you need it," and walks off. I lay sprawled quietly in the alley; naked, torn, probably bleeding. After a few minutes I find the strength to pick myself up again.

One by one I gather my clothes; my shirt's completely torn and useless, so I use it to clean myself up silently. I put on my jumper, my jacket, my jeans, my shoes - I can't find my underwear. It's probably lying amongst those piles of soggy trash, and I don't want to look. I just want...I want...

I want to go home.

But I don't have a home anymore. Not Duel Academy, not with Jagger and Slade, not at Pandora. There's nowhere for me to go...but I don't want to stay here - it's too dangerous, I've had nothing but bad luck ever since I arrived. I look at the paper bills littering the ground. If I took it...I could get a train out of this God-forsaken city. I could look for a place to call home, maybe settle down start a new life...

But if I take the money...this won't be rape anymore. I mean, at least with rape, I can say that I tried to fight him off, I was unwilling, I was forced - there's still some dignity to that, if not much. If I accept payment, it's not rape - it's prostitution. It means I was willing.

After a moment's thought, I get to my knees and gather up all the money to buy train tickets. I guess I really _am_ a prostitute after all.

* * *

The man behind the desk hands me my ticket; I pay and wander off, not missing the pointed glance he gives me. I look like a wreck, I reek of alcohol and I'm walking with a prominent limp; it's really no surprise. Since I'm past the point of caring, I make my way to the station and sit down while I wait for the train - as expected, the people sat closest to me shuffle away nervously. 

The train pulls in and people crowd on. I'll never get on at this rate...I raise my fist to my mouth and cough violently. It works like a charm - people back out of the way and let me on, eyeing me warily for any contagious diseases. I snag myself a corner and glare if anyone comes too close - not that they particularly want to. There's a few sideways glances and hushed mutters, but I ignore it and stare out of the window. I can still feel wetness running unpleasantly down my inner thighs...it probably doesn't look too good, staining my jeans like that. Probably doesn't smell too good either, of blood and sex, but whatever.

The train makes it's first stop: people get on, people get off. I hear someone humming a particular tune as they enter, grabbing a seat only to stand up and offer it to someone else. The doors shut and the train starts moving again; the humming continues. It's starting to get annoying...I shift slightly so I can see the culprit, and maybe glare them into silence, since that usually works.

I see happy brown eyes. Sunkised skin. A mop of two-tone brunet hair. And immediately I know who it is.

He can't see me, since his eyes are distracted by a dueling magazine. He can _smell_ me, though, since he sniffs the air and wrinkles his nose before turning back to his magazine whilst humming that irritating tune. I could go over and greet him but - no, I don't want him to see me like this...

As the journey continues, I start to think of something - didn't he say he lives by the ocean? And on his own most of the time? I wonder...maybe I could go stowaway in his house! I'd need to stay hidden from him - but that won't be too difficult, he oblivious to everything past his duel disk. I'd have a roof over my head, a warm place to sleep - I could steal food from the kitchen and clean clothes every so often - and when he goes back to Duel Academy, I'd have the place all to myself...it'd be perfect!

The train stops again, and he folds his magazine away before strolling towards the exit; I hastily follow him. I'm fairly certain several people sigh in relief as I exit the train, but I don't care enough to give it much thought. He walks away from the station and up a narrow pathway - I pursue him, hiding behind rocks and tress when I get the chance. we're getting nearer the ocean...I can taste the salt in the air and feel it's sting on my cheek. The wind is harsh and relentless; it blows about the light snow from the sky, making it near-impossible to see the lone figure in front of me - but then he can't see me either.

We make our way up the hill until we reach a small, solitary house overlooking the restless sea. I dodge behind a deadened tree and watch as he unlocks the door and lets himself in. Glancing up, I see one of the second-floor windows slightly open; I seize the chance and run to the side of the house, climbing up the frosty drainpipe to the window, nudging it open wide enough for me to slip through and land on the carpeted floor with a soft _thump_.

The warmth washes over me immediately, eliciting a content sigh. I close the window and turn to inspect my environment: the untidy bed, the heap of clothes on the floor, the duelist posters all over the walls...this must be his room.

The stairs creak, and my eyes widen: of course he'd come straight up here! I look around wildly for some place to hide, _any _place...under the bed will have to do. I throw myself to the floor and crawl under, hiding myself amongst sweet wrappers and old magazines and - for chrissakes, doesn't this guy clean up at all?

The door swings open, and I see sneaker-clad feet step into the room, his voice humming that tune from earlier. The mattress above me sags with his weight as he lies down, and I smell...chocolate? Ohh, now I'm hungry all over again...my stomach rumbles loudly at the aroma.

Suddenly the humming stops.

...Oh _hell_.

I hear a rustle, then I find myself looking straight into the wide brown eyes of my one and only Slifer rival. And then he opens his mouth to speak:

"Um, Chazz?" Jaden asks, "What are you doing in my room...?"

* * *

There you have it, from Pandora to Jaden's bedroom, our action-packed chapter. I'm sorry for torturing Chazz! (cringes) It's a necessary step...I really struggled with that scene, trying not to make Chazz OOC - do tell me whether or not it worked, won't you? Meanwhile I'm going on a two-week holiday, so don't expect an update anytime soon - but when there _is_ an update, rest assured the chapters will be much more light-hearted now Jaden's been re-introduced. 


	9. Halcyon

And thus I hit a writing roadblock...I know the next major event to happen in the story, I know the ending - it's just what to do in the meantime that's giving me problems. Suggestions/scenarios, anyone? I need some ideas that'll contribute towards the Chazz/Jaden...

**Warnings:** We're past the warning-worthy stage by now. Some **swearing** and addiction to **drugs**. That's about it.

HOLY FUDGE LOOK AT ALL THESE REVIEWS! (faints)

**Yami'c Chan: **I'm sure he'll help Chazz get better...more than Pandora, anyway.

**Kat (and Random voice inside head): **Well, blonde haired ninjas LOVE ramen, so perhaps Chazz can come to love Jaden...?

**Garnet-Crystals: **Yeah, I didn't think it would all work out in one chapter either - I thought maybe it was moving too fast. But, well, there's not much point wasting time with filler.

**Massacre Maker: **There were quite a few initially-planned ways of Jaden finding Chazz actually...such as finding him after the rape, or on the street...but I figured it was too much of a forced coincidence to be realistic. Plus, I liked that way best, it was fun to write.

**Coco Gash Jirachi: **Hey, as a steadfast member of the insanity club, I can say that they do VERY good poptarts.

**Sandaa: **You have no idea how happy you make me. I mean, the illustration - which is BEAUTIFUL by the way, I've put it up on my profile for everyone to see - and the comments as well! I always worried the story was too far-fetched to be realistic, and it'd just end up as another silly fanfic, but I'm glad you think I've pulled it off - it means a lot to me.

**Littlest-Angel: **Yeeaah, that is a pretty big coincidence (shifty eyes) Maybe not gay, just...'not fussy', shall we say. And he recognises Chazz from the duel between him and Jaden that was cast all over the TVs, remember? In the fic, it'd be a couple of months after it was broadcast. Thanks for the advice, I'll be sure to add that in later - and yeah, I figured I probably shouldn't describe the rape scene...I don't want this to be a particularly graphic story, lest it gets deleted from FF dot net...

**Jaswinder: **My, thank you. I'm glad you think it's good, I really did try my best with this story.

**T:** Ah, you shouldn't have put all those spoilers in the review, everyone will read it! (To everybody else who will now rush to read her review and see what I'm talking about...it's not spoilers for this story, it's a private thing. No peeking!) The man was just a random wandering pervert...that story could have so easily veered off into Joey Wheeler land, but I decided to keep it on track; he recognises Chazz, as said before, from the broadcast duel between him and Jaden. And as for Delirium...well, I'll be putting in a few twists of my own, but not yet. The action stops here, I'm, afraid, but with Chazz still suffering withdrawal from the haloperidol and the remains of his delirium, things could still be pretty interesting...

**Fluffy: **Hello there new reviewer! (also waves banner)

**Foxxy1st: **You screamed?

**ZomBRI:** Is he really that in-character? Because everyone says he is, but I'm not so sure...

I don't own Yugioh GX, and if I did, I (insert witty suggestion here)

* * *

Delirium, part nine (Halcyon) 

A minute passes, I stare at him. He stares at me.

"Chazz?" Jaden asks again, still staring at me blankly, "I asked why you were in my room-"

"I heard, dimwit," I snap, "I'm trying to come up with a suitable excuse."

"Oh, okay," Jaden says, then pauses, "Um, do you want to come out from under the bed?"

I growl and roll out the other side before straightening myself up and brushing off all the sticky sweet wrappers. Jaden stares at me for a moment, then lifts the mug in his hands and offers it to me:

"Cocoa?"

I gawk at him. Isn't he even slightly surprised that his considerably cooler and more talented arch-rival was hiding underneath his bed, having broken into his house? Isn't he going to tell me to get out, or threaten to call the police, or...or _anything?!_

"Are you kidding around with me?" I demand. He looks down at the cocoa and shrugs.

"Well if you didn't want any, you just had to say..."

"I wasn't talking about the cocoa, imbecile!" I snap, "I mean about _this_! Aren't you just a little surprised to find me underneath your bed?"

"Um, not really..." He squints at me, "What're you hiding from again?"

"Well _you_, but it's a bit late for that now," I sit down forcefully on the bed, and Jaden has to hold his hand over the top of the mug to stop cocoa spilling everywhere, "You're not even slightly surprised to see me?"

"Maybe a little...weren't you in that institution place?"

"Yes..." I answer cautiously. Hell, he can't have forgotten _already_...

"Okay." He takes a sip from the mug, "How'd you get out?"

"I _escaped_, stupid."

"You did? That must've been hard." He says, then frowns, "But, uh, weren't you supposed to stay there or something?"

"Until I was eighteen, yes." I fold my arms over my chest, "But I decided I didn't _want _to stay there until I was eighteen, so I left. Snuck out through the air vents."

"Just like in the movies!" Jaden exclaims cheerfully. I sigh.

"Yes slacker, just like in the movies," I relax onto the bed slightly, "So, are your parents home?"

He shakes his head, "Nu-uh, they're hardly ever home. They're both on a business trip or something," His eyes light up, "Hey, now that you're here, I'll have someone to play Duel Monsters with! Then I won't be so bored anymore!"

"Problem; I don't have my duel deck," I remind him, "I left it at Duel Academy, remember?"

"Oh that's okay, I got it for you," He reaches over to his cluttered bedside table, opening the drawer and fumbling around before producing a deck of cards, "I went back and collected 'em all up - or most of them, I think. Here you go," He hands me the deck. So a few are missing...oh please let it be the Ojamas, please let it be the Ojamas, pleasepleaseplease-

_"Heya boss! Did you miss me?"_

-It's not the Ojamas. Life could have been good to me for once, but it chose not to be - nope, no peace and quiet for Chazz, he has to suffer three disgusting pint-sized gremlins bothering him every other minute of the day...

"Looks like he's glad to see you," Jaden comments as the stupid yellow..._thing_ dances around me happily, waving it's ugly little backside about.

"Pity I can't say the same," I bat at it with my hand, causing it to squeal and fly smack into the wall.

_"Boss! Is that any way to treat a long-lost friend?"_

"No, but you're not my friend," I bite back, "Still ugly and annoying as ever, I see. And still wearing those hideous briefs - don't you have anything else to wear?"

_"You can talk,"_ Ojama Black appears beside me, _"You look like a bum."_

_"I have to agree,"_ Ojama Green nods, tongue wriggling unpleasantly as it speaks, _"You look pretty shabby, boss. When was the last time you showered?"_

_"Yeah, you make us smell fragrant,"_ Yellow adds.

"Shut up! I don't need your off-hand comments!" I snap, swiping all three with my arm; they vanish in puffs of smoke, "Stupid irritating annoying hideous little- stop laughing, slacker!"

"Sor-sorry," Jaden splutters, clutching at his sides, "You missed them really, I can tell."

"I did _not_ miss them - and _stop laughing at me_. That goes for your little hairball as well," I narrow my eyes at the Winged Kuriboh floating above Jaden's shoulder, it's furry mass quivering with laughter. At my comment it stops, though, huffing angrily before fading away. See, his duel spirit can make a _nice_ exit, not turn into bothersome little puffs of smoke like the Ojamas...

"Ah come on Chazz, they're not bad; and they're right about one thing..."

"Oh? What's that?"

"You _do_ kinda need a shower. Have you been sleeping rough or something?"

"Th-that's none of your business!" I reply indignantly, picking myself up from the bed, red dusting my cheeks, "And I already _know_ what I look and-slash-or smell like! Where's the bathroom?"

"Second on the left," Jaden also stands up, making no effort to conceal the smile on his face, "When you're done with your clothes, give them to me so I can wash 'em."

"Fine," I sniff, marching towards the bathroom with Jaden following me. He hangs around outside the door and catches the pile of filthy clothes I throw out.

"There's shampoo and stuff on the shower stand, towels on the rack," He calls to me through the closed door, having to raise his voice over the hiss of the shower, "Call me if you need anything!"

I wave a hand carelessly out of habit before remembering he can't see me through the walls and shouting back a "Yeah, yeah." The shower's heated up, steam curling upwards from the water, so I take a step forwards into the spray. The scalding water burns at first, but numbs to a pleasant tingle up my spine, soothing my aching muscles. I shudder with content, just remaining under the water's flow for a minute - I could almost forget the coldness of those slender hands touching me everywhere...

...Of course, now I've just remembered them again. Anxiety makes me reach for the shower gel, taking a cautious sniff. Hm, spicy scented; it figures, Jaden loves anything spicy. I squirt some onto a bath lilly and scrub myself vigorously, washing the cold blue handprints away; the whiskey brown ones as well, from that man in the alleyway who reeked of alcohol and lust. Wash them away, forget all about them...liquid sin swirls down the drain, brownish-grey in colour with malicious strands of scarlet and off-white.

Later I step out of the shower, refreshed and clean, or as close as I'm going to get. I wrap a fluffy towel around my waist, ignoring the dull ache in the small of my back. The bandage around my arm is wet and yellowing, so I peel it off, moving my wrist experimentally - stiff, but no real pain, so I throw the strip of bandage away. I open the door and walk out, only to come face to face with Jaden.

"Ever hear of a little privacy, slacker?" I bark, feeling somewhat self-conscious so exposed like this. But he's isn't looking at me, he's looking at my jeans. More specifically, the seat of them, caked in red and white crust.

"Chazz?" He asks, not taking his eyes off the mess, "What's this...?"

My mouth opens and shuts like a goldfish until I come to my senses and snatch the trousers away from him; "Nothing," I lie quickly.

"It doesn't look like nothing."

"It's none of your business," I reply stiffly, using my 'drop-the-subject' tone of voice before walking away. But Jaden Yuki is an idiot. He doesn't understand the 'drop-the-subject' tone.

"You're walking with a limp, Chazz."

"What did I just say?" I snap, barging into his room. I toss the jeans aside and sit on his bed, snatching up a stray comb and to tug it through my tangled locks.

"Chazz..." Jaden picks the trousers off the floor again as he pursues me, "What happened? Was it something bad?"

"I don't want to talk about it, now put those down," The comb meets a knot in my hair, struggling to get through.

"Chazz, I-"

"Put them down, I said," I tug more viciously on the knot, ignoring my protesting scalp.

"But-"

"Put them _down!_" Sharp pain causes me to wince and drop the comb. It falls onto the bed, stubborn knot still tangled in it's teeth, now ripped from my head. My scalp stings like hell, but the action seems to have shut Jaden up at least, who stares at me before letting the jeans drop to the carpeted ground.

"Here, let me do it," He says, walking over to the bed, leaving the article of clothing forgotten on the floor. I glare at him but don't say anything as he grabs the comb, pulling the knot of hair out and into the overflowing waste-basket. He settles himself behind me and I feel the comb run smoothly through my wet tresses.

"You're really thin," A stray finger runs down the protruding bumps of my spine, causing me to shiver, "Thinner than normal, I mean. When did you last eat? "

"A while ago," The subject is uncomfortable, but better than him questioning about the jeans, so I don't stop him. Besides, I'm too relaxed to argue now, not when that comb glides so smoothly through my hair...he combs my hair upwards into it's natural spikes, not forcing it down like that nurse - what was her name? Polly? Pretty Polly, Polly had a dolly...

"I made some soup yesterday, I think there's some left over. You want me to heat you up some later?"

"Mm," It comes out as a throaty purr. My eyes flicker closed lazily; I never knew it was so pleasant to have someone else comb your hair...heck, I should do this more often...

"Don't fall asleep on me now," Jaden says, a slightly teasing edge to his voice, rapidly blurring.

"Shut up...no good...slacker..." I mumble, barely hearing his laughed response as everything fades away...

* * *

It's the scent that awakens me, thick and spicy in the air. I find myself under rumpled blankets - Jaden must've pulled them over me when I fell asleep - and, to my embarrassment, nude. There's a stack of clothes on the end of the bed, however, and a scribbled note promising that no, the underwear hasn't been worn before, and that dinner will be ready shortly. Shrugging, I pull on the clothes; loose black trousers I need a belt to stop from falling off me, and an oversized grey jumper with sleeves that cover my hands and a turtleneck I could get lost behind. It's satisfactory, however, so I make my way downstairs into the kitchen. 

"Hiya Chazz!" Jaden waves enthusiastically from the stove, where a large pot gives off clouds of smoke; I cough and weakly make my way over to the safety of the table, "It's almost done, I'll be with you in just a second," He says.

Not a minute later and there's two bowels of steaming soup before us, "Spicy vegetable," Jaden announces, obviously pleased with his creation, "I almost set the kitchen on fire yesterday trying to make it, but it sure tastes good." I cock an eyebrow, wondering how anyone could managed to set _vegetables_ on fire, before remembering this is of course _Jaden_ we're talking about. Hell, he could set ice on fire if he put his mind to it.

"There isn't any..._carrots_ in this, is there?" I ask, eyeing the rich brown liquid in the bowel; Jaden shakes his head, and I relax. I really, _really_ hate carrots...I pick up my spoon and take a small sip, just to make sure it isn't poisoned - you never know with Jaden.

Hm...not bad, actually.

"I thought you'd like it," Jaden grins registering my facial expression. His soup bowel is already half-empty. "You look a lot better now you've had some sleep. I guess you really needed that, huh?"

"Yeah," I wait for him to ask why I haven't been sleeping so I can tell him to shut up and kind his own business, but he doesn't say anything. A small relief - I don't really want to talk about the past now, or ever again. I watch as he dips his spoon into the thick broth and absentmindedly stirs, making the liquid swirl and spin; soup overflows from the side when he lifts the utensil and spills back into it's origin in vertical ribbons. He raises it to his mouth and sips none too quietly, the swallowing motion causing his adams apple to shift under tender tan skin. And then it moves again, only this time with speech:

"Hey Chazz," I turn my head away at once and cough awkwardly, embarrassed at having paid such close attention to Jaden's throat, "Why did you leave Pandora?"

"What?"

"I said why did you leave Pan-"

"I heard what you said, moron," I snarl, "But what do you mean 'why'? I hated it there."

"But they were taking care of you, right?" Jaden says, and I resist the urge to laugh bitterly, "I mean, they kept you fed and clothed and everything, even if you had to be watched by those creepy guards all the time. Surely it wasn't _that _bad?"

You ever been trussed up in a straightjacket? But I don't say it aloud, choosing to remain silent and glaring.

"You weren't in chains or anything, even if those guards had to restrain you - but that's because you went all nutso-"

Me going 'all nutso' cost me a broken wrist, idiot.

"-And you looked kinda tired, but at least you were well fed and all. Plus, you don't have to deal with Crowler..." He slurps up the last of his soup happily, "_And _you had that doctor person looking out for you...what was his name? Dr Adams or something...he seemed like a nice guy."

I look down at my own barely-touched bowel of soup and push it away from me. Suddenly I don't feel hungry anymore.

* * *

We spend the evening playing Duel Monsters...I lose, but only because I don't have all my cards - if I had a full deck I'd have kicked his ass for sure. He got off lucky, and I make a point of telling him so. He just smiles and shakes his head. 

"Whatever you say, Chazz. We'll have a rematch tomorrow if you want."

Eventually he announces his tiredness with a long and obnoxiously loud yawn, which I glare at him for, but it goes ignored. He trudges sleepily up the stairs, me following him to the carpeted corridor and wondering about sleeping arrangements.

"You can sleep in my parents' room, I'm sure they won't mind," He decides, going into his room and re-emerging with colourful kuriboh pajamas for me to wear, "Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Whatever," I shuffle off to the door he points out, finding myself in an eerily clean room, not a speck of dust anywhere. I hold up the kuriboh pajamas, which clash incessantly with the plainness of the room, and stare at them distastefully. So brightly coloured, so cheerful, so..._Jaden_. I shudder as I put them on; I look like a little kid, I'm sure. With the oversized clothing neatly folded away - because it doesn't feel right to leave piles of clothing on the floor in such a tidy room - I climb onto the double bed, the sheets so neatly arranged they look as though they've been painted on. It's a struggle to slip under the pressed blankets, practically glued to the mattress, but eventually I make it, and then lay there in silence.

One minute later, and I'm aware of a lump in the mattress digging into my shoulder blade; I wriggle uncomfortably to get into a better position.

Two minutes later and the starched sheets are starting to itch.

Three minutes later and I'm painfully aware of how silent it is. Should it be this quiet? I can't even hear the ocean. But isn't the house right by a beach? Shouldn't I be able to hear the waves? No...nothing. It's too quiet, I don't like it. Wait, am I deaf?! What if I've gone deaf?!

...Wait, I can hear Jaden snoring next door through the walls. It's alright, I haven't gone deaf. Calm down Chazz, calm down...but it's decidedly too quiet here, not even the sound of the wind. I suppose some people would find that peaceful and normally I like my silence, but this is just kind of creepy. This bed is too cold. Has anyone ever actually slept in this bed? It doesn't _feel_ like they have. Cold, empty, lifeless. This room is too lifeless.

Five minutes later and I realise the blank white walls remind me of Pandora.

The shadows slide stealthily up the walls, silhouettes of lampshades and vases drifiting upwards and though summoned, forming together into one dark mass. It rises to the length of the entire wall and towers over me, vaguely human-shaped, shoulders broad and sharp as though wearing a smart suit. Two slanted eyes glow blue against the black background and illuminate the room in alien azure.

_Hello Chazz_, It purrs sickeningly.

Fuck, hallucinating again. It's not real, it's not real, it'snotreal...not working, need haloperidol. Haloperidol, haloperidol...fuck, no haloperidol. Where's Adams when you need him? No, there's no Adams, not anymore...I ran away, away from Pandora, away from Adams, from everything...no haloperidol. Where's the haloperidol? I _need_ the haloperidol!

_Should've thought of that before you ran away, eh? Maybe you should go back..._

"NO!" I shout at the shadow, "I'm never going back! Never!"

_In that case..._ The shadows steps _out_ of the wall and glides effortlessly towards me, it's bloodlusty eyes glowing brighter as they get closer, _I guess we'll be seeing a lot more of each other..._

"G-go away," I fail to keep the stutter out of my voice as it spills over my bed, covering the sickly pale sheets with it's shadowed body. It grins in reply, mouth tearing open wetly to reveal a long, thick tongue which trails up my face, leaving a trail of sticky slime in it's path.

"No! Get off!" I try to push it away, but my hands sink into it's moist chest, and when I yelp and pull back they're covered in mucus-like residue. I cry out and try to wipe it onto the sheets, but it won't come off...why won't it come off?!

_Disgusting boy,_ The sheets tell me, the creases forming pressed lips, _Look at you, covered in filth, you'll never be clean again_.

"Unclean, unclean," I rub desperately at my slime-covered hands, but it just seems to make things worse, "I want to be clean again, why can't I be clean...?"

_Water won't wash away the sin now!_ The shadow cackles gleefully, mucus dripping from it's tongue, _Why even bother trying to be clean? You might as well just be sinful_...

"What do you mean?"

_Go on, it's not that difficult. You want something, you take it, you have it. What about the boy, for example?_

"Jaden?!"

_Think how he'd look, lying there broken and bleeding underneath you, terrified beneath your touch,_ It spits out the words like wanton poison, _Those brown eyes wide and tearful, bruised lips whimpering your name...beautiful._

"Wh-what are you talking about? I don't like Jaden that way."

_It's not about liking him...it's about hating him. Loathing him. Always so happy, so carefree. Why should he get everything in life while you have to suffer in silence? If you had to go through so much, so should he._

"It's...I...yes," Logical argument. Logic is good. Bastion would agree. Go to Jaden, make him feel what you felt under icy hands- wait, what the hell am I saying?! I wanted to...make him cry, make him scream. Scream? Scream. Scream. I can hear screaming. Who is it? Is it me? My mouth is open, but there's no sound coming out, I'm drowning in silence...

_Just do it,_ The slimy shadow purrs, oozing grey residue all over me, my clothes, my hair - but nowhere else. Bedsheets still clean, too clean, I'm the only one who's dirty, _Want, take, have._

Want, want...I want haloperidol. Haloperidol makes everything better, makes the deafening silence go away and washes me in colour, pretty colour, pretty like Jaden's kuriboh pajamas. I try to look at them and see the colours, but they're covered by the shadows and dripping with grey phlegm. Please, I want haloperidol, I _need_ haloperidol, it'll make everything better - it'll make me clean! Just give me the needle, somebody, _anybody_...

"Halo...halo...halo..." My voice is breathless and raspy, painful to my own ears. PleasepleaseIneeditIneeditI'lldoanythingjustgivemesomegoddamnfucking_haloperidol!_

"Chazz?" A voice, muffled through the door, rings out like a peal of bells, "Are you alright in there?"

No. No no no nononono- "I'm fine," I manage to choke out, "Go back to sleep, Jaden."

"'Kay..." Footsteps wander off, followed by a door closing softly. I look back into the room, the spotless white room. The sinful silhouette is gone, all shadows are in their normal places. There's no grey slime in sight. In the dim moonlight filtered through the curtains, you can see all the colours on the kuriboh pajamas. The sheets are rumpled from my excess movement and slightly damp with sweat.

Slowly, nervously, I bring my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around my figure, eyes wide and paranoid. No voices now, no screaming, even my breath has quietened down. And it isn't long before the silence starts to smother me again, and cold cerulean eyes glow out from the shadows.

* * *

I didn't mean the 'not playing with a full deck' pun, I swear. I just looked at it after I'd written it and went 'Hey, wait a minute...' 

If you're wondering why the sudden relapse when Chazz hasn't had any hallucinations for a good few chapters now - I researched addiction very carefully, and it states that you're supposed to come off them gradually, and _under no account_ just stop using them...which, by running way from Pandora, Chazz has effectively done. Not the wisest move, but it'll make for interesting writing, no? Be sure to leave a review and comment on this turn of events...


	10. Piscary

You should all thank **Sandaa**, who suggested the scenario of fishing to me and made this chapter possible. Remember, you can check out my profile under the 'my fanfiction' section for news on updates, or lack thereof. Also, there's a _kind-of important notice: _I went back and changed the shadow-creature's eyes from red to blue. Just thought it had a bit more significance.

**Warnings:** There's fluff...more fluff...heck, this whole chapter is just made of fluff. You could also call it filler, but it's kinda necessary to build the friendship (and maybe more...) between Chazz and Jaden. **Hallucinations** and **some sexual thoughts**, but that's about it. Also, remember this is told through Chazz's POV, it's up to you to make sense of what he's thinking.

**Coco Gash Jirachi: **(also waits eagerly for the walls to tell her what the name will be)

**Yami's Chan: **Rest assured, Jaden _will_ help him, one way or another...

**Garnet-Crystals: **Thank you, I did work especially hard to keep Jaden in-character to make up for Chazz's relative OOC-ness.

**Sandaa:** Yeah, I figured after all that adventure, both Chazz and the readers probably needed a break.

**Kat (and Random voice in head): **Wrong, yet oddly appealing...but it's so very, very difficult to write broken!Jaden without making him OOC. He's just so damned _happy_ all the time.

**Foxxy1st: **Short but sweet, thanks!

**Littlest-Angel:** Ah, my own words of wisdom - 'no rapey the Jaden!' Of course, you'll have to wait and see if Chazz attacks him...I've caught up with my own rough version of the story now, so anything goes until the ending.

**FlameFoXX:** Thank you! I always try my hardest to entertain - that's a writer's job, after all.

**T: **True, it's all very well trying to keep Chazz in-character - but it only really comes through when he interacting with others characters, and even more so with characters that are actually from the show. Although, don't count on me to email you when I've updated...I have a hopeless memory, chances are I'll forget.

**eiensora: **Well, it's my theory that when you do your research, it shows in your writing, so I'm glad you enjoyed it.

**JamieStabine0011: **You're confusing me...do you like the story or don't you? Since you say you don't like Chazz, it does beg the question: why are you reading this story? It being centred around him and all...if you think it's nastycreepy I'm sorry, but that was done deliberately - there's little point in sugar-coating mental illness after all. It's not him being a little bit crazy - he genuinely has problems, and that needs to reflect in the tone and writing of the story, perhaps making it a little too dark for some peoples tastes.

ReaperRain does not own yugioh GX. But she simply adores referring to herself in the third person.

* * *

Delirium, part ten (Piscary) 

"_Fishing?_" I say incredulously.

"Well yeah," Jaden scratches his nose, then holds out an old fishing rod for me, "C'mon Chazz, it'll be fun."

"What," I growl. Fun. Fun? _Fun?_ Only Jaden Yuki could find sitting around waiting to catch a fish fun, "No. I'm not going."

"Why not?"

"Because unlike you, I actually have better things to do with my time than catching fish."

"Such as...?"

"Well, I-" I pause. Things to do, things to do...well, I've already eaten, and I don't really want to attempt sleeping in that room again, so that leaves...um...ah...

"Can't think of anything, huh?" Jaden says, not smirking because he can't really accomplish that, but there's that vaguely amused twinkle to his eye. Dammit, there must be _something_ I can do. No? Fine, time for plan B:

"It's too cold outside - in fact, it's..." Fuck, what month is it again? November? December? "It's the middle of winter," I decide upon, "Why would you want to fish now of all seasons?"

"Why not?" Jaden shrugs, "It's not that bad outside anyway, and I've got a spare coat you can lend. Come _on_ Chazz, I really really really really want to go fishing and I want you to come too; please, pretty please, pretty pretty please, pretty pretty pretty pl-"

"Alright, I'll go!" I snap, if only to shut him up. Jaden cheers and thrusts the fishing rod into my hands before charging off in search of a spare coat. He returns a minute later with some thick navy blue thing, which he happily throws at me before putting on his own grey overcoat.

"Okay, let's go!" He beams when we're done, and saunters cheerfully towards the door, equipped with his own fishing rod and shoulder-bag of equipment, "Let's go fishing fishing fishing fishing-"

"Shut up already," I say, and thwack him over the head with my own fishing rod for good measure.

* * *

"S-slacker," I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself for warmth, "I th-thought you said the weather w-wasn't that bad!" 

"It isn't," Jaden replies nonchalantly, or at least I think so - I can't really hear him over the howling winds. I can't really see him past all the snow either.

"It's f-freezi- aah!" I lose my footing on one of the rocks, slippery with ice and moss, and crash down painfully. Jaden - who got worried the first few times it happened but stopped dashing to my aid at around the seventeenth - patiently helps me back up and keeps going, secure and steady over the rocky surface. I pause to look back over the stony beach we've crossed, and thre lone house sat atop the small cliff, wondering how warm it is in there and what I wouldn't give for a hot chocolate right about now.

"Come on, Chazz!" Jaden's voice calls, and I turn around to see him considerably further away than I'd thought. With a swell of nervous panic, I scrabble over the rest of the rocks - falling twice in the process - to catch up to him, heaving for breath.

"Wow Chazz, are you okay?" He asks when I double over, as if the answer wasn't already obvious, "You're pretty out of it today. Didn't you get any sleep last night?"

"Not really," I think I might have drifted off once or twice - but every time I did, I saw the shadow-monster towering over me and whispering slimy words into my ear, startling myself awake again. I'm tired as hell, but there's no way I'll get any sleep in that room, I know it. Of course, I don't tell Jaden any of this - it's none of his business anyway.

"Ah," Is all he replies with, but I can see the thoughts going like clockwork behidn those eyes of his. He doesn't say anything, though, instead leading me further over the rocks and to some little cove where the wind is a little less harsh, kept out by natural barriers of rock.

"Here should do," Jaden declares, finding himself a moderately comfortable spot to patting for me to sit next to him. I place myself on the cold, uncomfortable ground, wincing as ice seeps straight through my trousers, and proceed to set up my fishing rod.

...Of course, since I don't actually _know_ how to set up a rod, it doesn't go so well. Five minutes later and Jaden finishes untangling the last of the string from my hair and coat. His eyes are still a bit wide from hearing all the cussing in several languages - no surpise, since I don't normally swear...out loud, anyway.

"Now we just add the bait," Jaden explains, since despite my best bluffing efforts he's figured out I don't know anything about fishing. He hands me an open can, "You can go first if you want."

"Whatev-" I begin, then yelp and pull my hand back from the can as if I've touched fire, "What the hell was that?"

"What?" Jaden frowns, putting his hand inside the can. It re-emerges holding a wriggling pink thing, "It's just a worm, Chazz."

"_Just_ a worm?" I glace at my hand, unable to shake the feeling of moving moistness - and _germs!­_ - against my fingertips. Like touching intestine or somethi- ohh, I shouldn't have thought that. _Bad_ mental image. Feeling quite nausesous now.

"Yup, I dug 'em up earlier to use as bait. See, you just put them on the hook like this-" He threads the worm onto the- ugh, I'm gonna be sick... "-And cast your line out like this. Okay, now you try."

"I'll pass," I shove the can of worms he's holding out back at him. He looks nonplussed.

"Well you're not gonna catch anything if you don't use bait. C'mon Chazz, it's not that hard."

"I refuse to touch those..._things_," I sniff, glaring at the offending can, "Isn't there anything else we can use?"

"Well there's always maggots, but they're kind of unpleasant - all squishy and stuff," Jaden suggests, not noticing my slightly green complexion at the words, "Or bluebottles, but they're difficult to catch..."

"Can't we just put a biscuit on the hook or something?" I mutter, fighting the urge to throw up.

"Fish don't eat biscuits, silly," Jaden laughs, "Alright, I'll put your worm on if you don't want to. But I can't see what all the fuss is about, really..." He fiddles with another worm and cats my line out for me. Then we wait.

And wait.

And wait.

"This is boring," I announce loudly, standing up, "Let's go back inside."

"Wait, Chazz!" He grabs the hem of my coat and pulls me back down, "You can't expect them to start biting right away. It takes time."

"What sort of fish would be swimming about in this temperature?" I shoot back, "A moron fish, that's what - like the moron who dragged me out here to freeze my backside off. No, the fish probably all migrated to the Pacific ocean or somewhere warm. Warm. Like we would be. _Indoors_."

"Aw come on, Chazz, it's not that cold."

"Yes it _is_," I insist, and exhale a mouthful of cold mist for emphasis, "Do you see? Do you see how cold it is? An can you imagine how _not_-cold it would be back inside?"

"But this is fun," Jaden points out.

I scowl; "To you, maybe. To me it's just freezing."

"If you're cold, just move closer to me."

"What?"

"We can share body heat; we'll be warmer that way," Jaden says, and pulls me closer before I can say anything. I growl loudly and prepare to shuffle away again when I realise it actually _is_ warmer near Jaden. With a resigned sigh, I crowd closer to him, claiming as much heat as I can.

"See? This isn't so bad," He smiles.

"Still cold," I remind him, feeling a winter gale whip at my cheeks. I yelp when he leans in closer, hooking one arm around me, "Slacker, what do you think you're doing?"

"Keeping you warm," Jaden replies with a puzzled look. That's right, it's just Jaden. He wasn't trying anything. A completely innocent gesture. Calm down, Chazz, calm down...

"I don't like being touched," I snap, shrugging his arm off - then immediately miss the warmth, but I choose not to say anything.

"You need all the warmth you can get," His fingers ghost over my own pale hand, "You really are cold, aren't you? Your hands are like ice."

"Not all of us have the properties of a human radiator," I answer, smacking his hand away and bringing my arms around myself as a shield against the cold. Jaden looks at me oddly.

"We'll go inside soon," He promises, and puts his arms around me again; this time, I don't protest.

* * *

'Soon' turns out to be several hours later. And we caught one fish. _One_ fish. Looks like there really _was_ a moron fish swimming out there after all. The other moron - one named Jaden Yuki - seems happy enough though, saying something about 'good catch', 'big fish' and 'supper'. I ignore him as we cross the stony beach - and I slipped _again_ dammit - and find our way back to the welcoming warmth of the house. 

Of course, winter still manages to find its way in.

"Nasty cough you got there," Jaden comments as I hack violently into my fist, chest burning. I reach for a tissue when he isn't looking and cough up viscous phlegm, disposing of it before he can see.

"Mm-hm, I can't wait to start dinner tonight," Jaden speaks, more to himself than me. He lands the fish on the counter with a wet smack before going to tidy up all the fishing stuff and release the worms back into their natural habitat. I hang my coat up and make my way into the living room, rubbing at my sore throat in the hopes to soothe it. My head feels oddly light, legs unsteady.

"Slacker," I call hoarsely, room spinning slightly as I turn my head, "Jaden, I don't feel so good."

"What was that, Chazz?" His voice comes out muffled from the storage cupboard beneath the stairs, accompanied by the rattling of things being put away, "Hold on, I'll be out in a minute."

"Maybe I should lie down for a bit," I mumble, bringing a hand to my forehead. I glance over at the wall-mirror, vision blurring then re-focusing. My face is ashen-grey, lips taking on a slightly bluish tint.

"All done. Now, did you want somethi-" Jaden arrives at the doorway, eyes widening when he sees me, "Chazz...?"

"Ah...dammit," Sharp pain shoots through my chest, making it difficult to breathe. Vision blurring, blackening. I hear my name called out once more in a panicked voice before my limbs buckle under my limp weight, sending me to the floor.

* * *

There she is, lying on the bed in that white kimono gown of hers, only...no, it's not her usual one. This has some sort of red speckled pattern down the front. Is it a pattern? It doesn't seem to have any sequence, just random spatterings of scarlet. 

"Chazz...Chazz?" She calls out, body writhing feverishly on silken sheets, "Where's Chazz? Where's my baby?"

I say something in reply. It's...Mama? Yes, I think that's what comes out. Mama. I shuffle over to her on nervous legs. Everything looks bigger from down here.

"Chazz. My Chazz," She says breathlessly, hand reaching out to me; it looks clean but there's dried crimson staining the edges of her nails, "Come over here, let Mama see you properly."

I'm right here, Mama...spoken uncertainly, climbing onto the bed so she has a better view. I can't see her eyes though, oddly blurred and erased from sight. Parts of her are fuzzy, unclear - other parts are in perfect detail, like the sheen of her long black hair, pooling around her head like a halo. Hm. The pillow is stained red as well. Are you alright, Mama?

"I'm fine," She answers, then laughs humorlessly, "No...there's no use lying now. I'm not fine, Chazz. Or rather, I won't be."

Why not?

"The doctors don't think I'll last much longer...although they also think I belong in an asylum," She laughs again, a little more on edge this time, "An asylum, I tell you! They think I'm mad!"

Her lips are red, I notice. The most beautiful, brilliant red I've ever seen, not like the dark, dried stain on the pillow or the front of her robes; like twin rubies, dazzling.

"So doing what's right makes me mad..." She murmurs, running one hand fondly through my hair, "I only wanted to protect my baby, to make sure he didn't turn out like the last two. Like their father..." She shudders; her hands fall back down on the bed, "Does that make me mad, Chazz?"

I don't know what to say, so I shake my head as a no.

"No, no it doesn't. You agree with me, that's what matters," She stops suddenly to cough, the sound coming out in desperate, painful hacks. Unable to find anything else,. she wipes her mouth on the corner of one of the sheets, and when she takes it away there's a fresh red mark there.

"No-one else would agree though, not even your brothers. So much like _him_..." And now she's crying as well, "Where did I go wrong? I tried to raise them well, I really did, but...didn't work...so similar to him...can't stand it..." Her voice keeps fading in and out, parts of the conversation missed or forgotten, "Managed to raise one right at least...not like the other two...and yet they call me mad...necessary..."

I don't say anything, just stroke her forehead through her nonsense ramblings. Her skin is blisteringly hot to the touch, slick with sweat.

"But Mama can't protect you anymore," Her voice is clear again, tinged with sadness; she takes my hand and kisses it lightly, leaving crimson residue on my knuckles, "Mama has to leave soon, so you'll have to protect yourself from now on."

Will I see you again? I ask.

"Maybe," But her smile falters; she seems to forget I'm here, "But I don't think they'd let me past the pearly gates...I married a man for all the wrong reasons, gave birth to two children that'll grow up as merciless as him, then left my youngest child to his own defenses...God, I'm going straight to hell."

I'll go there then too, I tell her. She laughs sadly.

"Oh Chazz...my darling boy," Her hands caress my cheeks, voice becoming tight and raw, "I don't want to leave you, not yet."

Then why are you going?

"It's my time, baby - I just wish it wasn't so soon. And when it happens...oh lord, those two will be on you like vultures. But you mustn't let them change you; you have to be strong, no matter what," I see her eyes now, gazing up at me pleadingly, bloodshot and weeping with disease, "Just promise me one thing, Chazz."

Anything, Mama.

"Promise me...you'll never become like them."

* * *

"Dammit Chazz, _breathe!_" 

My eyes flutter open weakly to see a mop on unruly brunet hair inches away. Hands clutch desperately at my jumper, and warm lips on mine force breath don my throat.

Lips.

On mine.

OhmyfuckinggodJadenYukiiskissingme.

He doesn't seem to have noticed I'm awake. I try to push him off, find I can't, so settle for slapping him across the cheek instead. He lifts his head, dazed, then sees me glaring at him angrily.

"Chazz, you're awake!" He exclaims and tries to hug me, but I keep him at arms length:

"What the hell were you _doing?_"

He blinks; "Huh?"

"Your lips. On mine. Kissing. Explanation," I demand, still scowling. He frowns momentarily, them his mouth breaks into a cheerful grin.

"I wasn't kissing you, I was performing CPR," And now he looks concerned; It's amazing just how quickly this guy switches emotion, "You passed out on the floor, Chazz! Your lips were blue, and you weren't breathing, so I got really worried, and then I-"

"I get the picture," I cut him off and sit up, causing the room to sway from side to side; oh-kay, maybe that wasn't such a good idea...ooh, dizzydizzydizzy...

"So what happened anyway?" He asks, "Why did you faint all of a sudden?"

"Because _you_ kept me sitting out in the freezing cold for hours, dumbass," I snap, smacking his head lightly and causing him to wince, "It's your fault I caught a cold!"

"But Chazz..." He frowns, rubbing his head tenderly, "Having a cold doesn't make you fall unconscious like that...it must be pretty serious."

"I'm fine," I wave a hand carelessly, even though it takes a massive effort to do so, "I just blacked out for a minute or two, that's all-"

"-And stopped breathing," Jaden interrupts.

"And stopped breathing," I add grudgingly, "But it's not that big a deal."

"I think not breathing is a pretty big deal," He says quietly.

"Yeah, well you're an idiot," I fold my arms crossly, "I'm fine now, so get over it."

"I don't think you fainted from sitting in the cold for a few hours. And I was keeping you warm to whole time."

"Yes..." My hands subconsciously brush my lap, where a lingering warmth still remains.

"So did you have a cold before you came here?"

"Slacker, just shut up about it already-"

"Was it something you got at Pandora?"

"_No_," I say forcefully. Dangerous territory, bad memories...I went into shock whilst I was there and I'm not about to tell him why; blue-eyes reasons shall remain unknown. But now large brown eyes are staring at me with obvious 'I-don't-believe-you' written across the umber depths. Hm...they're quite a nice shade actually, never really noticed that before...kind of light brown with dark flecks, and that hint of gold that catches _just so_...

"You _did_ have something before you came here, didn't you?" He asks, voice distracting me from other features. I blink a few times - what was he talking about again? Oh yes, a cold. And fainting. Telling lies about Pandora.

"I'm perfectly healthy, slacker, there's nothing wrong with me," My eye twitches slightly at his disagreeing stare, "I'm _fine!_ I just chose a somewhat inopportune time to make my escape, that's all."

"Hm..." He doesn't look entirely convinced by my half-truth, but decides to let it go, "Well I don't want you to get sick. I'm gonna go get you some cough medicine, okay?"

"I don't need-" But he's already gone. I give a resigned sigh and pick myself up from the floor - wait, I was on the floor? Why didn't I notice that earlier? - and slump on the couch, somehow drained. I can hear Jaden's footsteps upstairs, probably searching around the bathroom cabinets for medicine.

_Such a nice boy...don't you just want to hurt him?_

A chill runs straight up my spine and raises the tiny hairs on the back of my neck. I don't need to turn around; I can already hear the sickeningly heavy breaths, feel the electric blue eyes burning into the back of my skull. A thick droplet of saliva-like substance falls onto my hand and trickles between my fingers, slimy and grey.

"Go away," I whisper, for fear of Jaden hearing me, "I don't want you here."

_You don't have a say in the matter,_ It purrs right next to my ear, breathing cold against my skin. I hear a triumphant exclamation of 'aha!' from upstairs, _Looks like he found your medicine. So kind and caring...doesn't it make you want to throw up?_

"Shut-" I hear footsteps heading towards the stairs, "-_Up_," I finish, lowering my voice. The shadow doesn't comply.

_Sweet as sugar. Probably tastes like it too,_ It continues, _Don't you want to taste him? To sink your teeth into his flesh and rip it away? The colour red suits him well - can you imagine how beautiful he'd look covered from head to toe?_

"You're not even real. I refuse to listen to a hallucination," Feet coming down the stairs.

_And he feels so warm,_ The voice seems no longer next to my ear but in my head, buzzing with each word and summoning an inevitable migraine, _So soft and warm in your arms...why not steal that warmth for yourself? Then he'd be cold and limp and white and-_

"_Stop_," I insist desperately. Shuffling through the halls.

_-Beautiful. Don't fight it, Chazz, you know you want it. To take him, break him, make him bleed. Hear him screaming underneath you and begging you to stop. Then who'd be the victor? It'd be so easy..._

"Be-" The door opens, "-Quiet!"

"Hm?" Jaden says, "What was that, Chazz?"

"Nothing," I say quickly, and upon seeing the bottle in his hand, change the subject, "So you found some then?"

"Yep! There's cough syrup and some tablets left over from when I had the flu. I don't _think_ they're past the expiry date..." He chats happily, walking over to join me on the couch, "I heard that hot orange is good for colds too. You want me to make you some?"

"I'll be alright," I answer, relaxing slightly. The shadow-voice is gone for now, there's nothing to worry about...

_Oh really?_

I stiffen at the voice. Turning around slowly I see it there, sat poised on the edge of the couch with glowing cerulean eyes and a jack-o-lantern smile. It's different from last time, no longer tall and towering but about my size, with the same head of proud spikes - a black silhouette of me, though it's edges curl and drift upwards like cigarette smoke.

"What are you doing here?" I hiss.

"Huh?" Jaden frowns, "Who're you talking to?"

"What, you can't see it?"

He only looks more confused, "See what?"

"...Nothing," I turn my back on the shadow in the hopes of ignoring it. No such luck.

_Jaden can't see me, remember?_ It reminds me silkily, sliding off the couch and into my lap. I try to shove it off but my hand slides straight though; Jaden looks at me oddly, _But __you__ still can. And I have no intention of leaving..._

Ignore it, I decide. I turn my head towards Jaden and try to look nonchalant. He shakes his head and starts unscrewing the bottle of cough medicine.

_Please. I won't go away that easily._

"It's been ages since I was ill," Jaden says, and I cling onto his words as a welcome distraction, "Even before I came to Duel Academy. It snowed all night and covered everything like a white blanket - even the sea had ice floating in it..."

_I want to play,_ The shadow whispers in my other ear, _Let's play with Jaden, Chazz. We'll tie him up just like you were in that straightjacket, and you can be Dr Adams._

"I went outside and made snowmen all day - didn't even realise I was ill until I came back inside," Jaden continues, blissfully ignorant of the shadow right next to him, pouring the thick amber liquid of the medicine into a large spoon, "Boy was I ill, I don't think I've ever been _that_ sick before. Open wide," The spoon passes straight through the shadow and towards my mouth. I'm certain I see grey slime oozing over the sides, but I ignore it and open my mouth. It burns going down, but the sudden warmth in my chest tells me it's working.

_Look at him, always so happy, so carefree,_ The shadow continues, glaring hatefully at an unaware Jaden, _Let's have some fun with him, Chazz. Let's tie him to the bed and make him scream. Wouldn't he feel good writhing underneath you?_

"Anyway, I still have some pills left over from then, they should help," He starts opening a packet of pills. His voice seems quieter and more distant now, not so much of a distraction - whereas the obscene voice in my ear grows louder, more victorious.

_Want, take, have...you want him, don't you? I know you do. Then take him. Have him. He's yours to own, another pretty possession to add to the list - yours for the taking._

I need another distraction...Jaden is the only option, so I focus on the way the light falls on his hair, illuminating the golden strands almost like a halo...

"But I was up all night, going hot and cold, sneezing and sniffling, coughing and hacking everywhere..."

_He's like a toy - play with it until you're bored, then throw it aside for the next one..._

His voice reminds me of summer, a breeze playing through tall grass and wildflowers on a cloudless day...

"Everything I ate I threw back up again..."

_He'd be unrecognisable by the end of it. Bruises and bite marks all over his skin, limbs twisted out of shape. fingers broken..._

That sleek golden skin glowing slightly in the fire light, Adams apple moving underneath his throat with every word. Just a glimpse of pink tongue as his mouth moves - I can barely hear the words - and his lips, so soft...

"Couldn't even keep a glass of water down..."

_Eyes bloody with tears, clumps of hair ripped out, red scratches all down his chest..._

Oh god...his _lips_...

"But I got right better after I took the tablets- Chazz? What's wrong?"

_Throat red raw from screaming your name, screaming in agony..._

I just...want to...

"Chazz, are you- _hands braced against you, trying to push you off, too weak to succeed_..." The voices blur together, I don't know which one to listen to. Jaden's so close, I could just- _rip him in two_ "-get you something to drink?"

"I think..." My own voice comes out faint and shaken. His face is drifting closer to mine, or mine to his. Just one, just one - no, I can't - yes, I can-

_"The _Chazz_ last _please_ light _tell_ flickering _me_ from _what's_ his _wrong_ eyes.._."

"I need to rest," I say suddenly, standing up; the room sways and tilts dangerously, "I'm going to lie down for a bit. Don't disturb me."

I walk off before he can protest, sure to keep up my proud stride. The moment I'm outside the door, however, I break into a run - up the stairs and into the white room, slamming the door behind me before stumbling to the floor not a second later. Numbly my hands reach out, dragging the rest of my body to the crisp linen sheets of the bed. I struggle to heave myself upwards, collapsing against the pillows, exhausted. The shadow is gone for now, but its seductive words still remain, the mental images...Time passes, who knows how much. A few minutes? A few hours? The world seems to blur by whilst I lay on the cold bed, half-way between reality and dreams.

_"Chazz?"_ A muffled voice says, barely a murmur to my ears. The door opens; footsteps enter slowly, cautiously. Something is set on the bedside table.

_"I brought you some hot orange..."_ Spoken apprehensively - I don't reply, _"You don't have to drink it if you don't want to..."_

I don't - _can't_ - say anything. Cold blue eyes. The rustling of a straightjacket. Kimono silk. Golden light like a halo...halo...haloperidol...

_"Chazz? Are you awake?"_ the mattress sinks slightly as a second person sits beside me, _"Guess not, huh?"_

Escape, guards, Pandora...I wonder if Adams is still searching for me? Probably. He must be going frantic by now, in case I tell everyone...

_"Chazz...why won't you tell me what's wrong with you...?"_

I could go to the police, tell them what he did...no, I can't. They'd never believe me, just throw me back in Pandora, back to Adams to play with...

_"I'm not stupid you know. I mean, I know I'm a bit slow at times, and I don't always understand big words, but even I can see there's something wrong."_

I don't want to go back there...please, don't send me back...

_"Something bad happened, right? It must've done,"_ I feel warmth radiating off the second person as they lean closer, voice lowered to a whisper. I want to reach out, but my arm won't lift... _"Was it at Pandora? Is that why you really ran away? Of maybe it was after you escaped..."_

Adams...blue eyes...cold touch...no! Oh god, no! Don't touch me there! Let go!

_"I wish I could help you,"_ A hand runs through my hair comfortingly, like Mom, _"But I can't if you won't tell me what's wrong, you know?"_

Please don't...not there, not now, not him...

_"I suppose..._" A sigh, _"You'll tell me when you're good and ready. Until then, I'll wait. And I'll take good care of you 'til you get better...if you get better."_

Adams is...gone. No coldness, just gentle, golden warmth; a summer breeze and a clear blue sky. Everything will be fine, it tells me. Everything will be okay.

_"I don't know what happened to you, but..."_ Sudden determination; the wind rustles forcefully, _"I won't let anyone else hurt you, Chazz. I promise."_

Promise.

Promise?

...Thank you.

* * *

_Please_ tell me you found that ending at beautiful as I did. The next chapter _should_ come sooner since I actually know what happens, but you know how unreliable I am with updates. I love this story, it's a joy to write, but damn does it give me writers block sometimes. 


	11. Phantasmagoria

Sorry for the delay It was... yeah, you guessed it, writers block. BUT, to make up for it I've given you what I call: 'the fanservice chapter'! Almost-lemons ahoy!

**Warnings: **Not much, just Chazz molesting Jaden, but I hardly think you need warning against that - heck, that's probably what you've all been waiting for.

**Coco Gash Jirachi: **Aster has joined our ranks! INSANITY IS CONTAGIOUS!

**T:** Hey, I like the name Nakatsuki. It's certainly better than Twinky (isn't that a sugary snack thing in America?) Oh, and thank you for sending me all those links to episodes! I've been watching season three, although I'm not very far yet, but I appreciate the gesture.

**Yami's Chan: **Thank you! I'm especially proud of how I ended it - one of the better things I've written, I think.

**Sandaa: **(tickles your brain) Thanks for the comment! It does seem like Chazz is about to break under the strain of it all, doesn't it? That should be interesting to write...although the story is kind of writing itself now, it just seems to pour out onto the page when I pick up a pen.

**ChibisukeGirl: **Hey, thanks. And yes, that did make sense a great deal - I think the characters are more real to me than deemed healthy, to be entirely honest (shifts eyes like a creepy psycho).

**Eiensora: **Wohoo! Glad everyone liked the ending as much as I did (swells with pride) I love this story to bits, even if it is rock-hard to write. Here's your update!

**Garnet-Crystals: **Thanks! Although you should know, there probably _will_ be ChazzJay romance...but of course, since it _is_ purely from Chazz's POV, it's not likely to be very romantic (maybe he was in fanboy mode with Alexis, but Chazz and Jaden do not a sappy romance make)

**Syrus Stalker and Yaoi Fan: **insane!Chazz and normal!Jaden thank you for their huggles.

**Kat: **Thank you, I'm very flattered.

**JamieStabine0011: **How peculiar you are. Well, I suppose I can vouch for the addicted to reading (and writing) online ff thing, so am I.

**Littlest-Angel: **Molesting sounds good (see warning). Well Jaden can actually fish, since he was doing it in one of the episodes, and he's surprisingly patient...except when he's hungry, of course - Glad you liked the bit with Mama Princeton, I was worried that might be a bit cheesy...there'll be more of her to come later on.

**xFadingxRosesxx:** Whoah there, calm down. I can only update so fast, you know...

I don't own yugioh GX. I've requested it for christmas, though.

* * *

Delirium, part eleven (Phantasmagoria)

...It's cold.

It's everywhere, seeping through my skin as though I were drowning in ice - shuddering with cold, I curl up tighter to preserve warmth, but fail despairingly. Harsh light burns through my eyelids and forces me from slumber; I sit up groggily, squinting against the brightness until my eyes adjust. Gradually I can make out my surroundings: the four white walls, the toilet in the corner, the plain hospital bed-

Whoah, wait a minute. Why am I on a hospital bed? And since when was there a toilet in the corner of the room? I blink and rub my eyes in the hope that it'll magically disappear, but it remains gleaming in the malicious light. I turn to a wall, frowning: wasn't there a window there before? With views overlooking the ocean...but now there's just a blank white wall staring back at me impassively.

The first strings of anxiety start to stir; this room looks familiar, _too_ familiar for my liking. I swing my legs off the side of the bed, brushing against some kind of leather; what's that? Those are-

_-Bound to a hospital bed by menacing leather straps that bite into the skin like hungry wolves. The body twists and thrashes futilely in a bid for freedom, head thrown back, screaming, __screaming__-_

With a gasp I stand up, stumbling away from the bed and falling to the floor with a painful smack. Ignoring the resulting dull ache in my hips, I scramble back onto my feet and towards the relative safety of the walls, eyeing the bed nervously; those hideous straps that _dare_ to hang there so innocently, masquerading as though they don't serve a function. My stomach turns at the sight of them and I bolt for the nearby toilet.

Nothing comes out but dry heaves, but it still leaves me with a bitter taste in my mouth and a flush to my cheeks. Whilst the rest of my body is still icy-cold, my face feels blisteringly hot and feverish; I rest it gladly against the cool, smooth porcelain. It's only after a few minutes that I notice silky white strands swirling slowly in the bowel. Where did that come from? And what _is_ it? It looks so familiar...

Trembling - and not purely from the cold - I raise myself back onto unsteady legs and look around the room. Bad memories, clouding the edges of my mind like sinister shadows...the gnawing urge to escape makes me stagger towards the door; I half-expect to find it locked, but it swings open easily at my touch.

The corridor beyond stretches endlessly to either side, and without a soul in sight. I take a nervous steps forwards, wrapping my arms around myself for warmth; it's so _cold_...

"Hello?" I call out, but the only answer is my own returning echo. Swallowing nervously, I start to walk down the corridor, bare feet making a _pit pat_ against the hard floor; a quiet sound, but in the silence it's deafening.

"Jaden? Anyone? Can anyone hear me?" I try again, to no avail. Okay, this isn't funny anymore...actually, it wasn't particularly funny to start with, but now it's just plain creepy. Where the hell _is_ everyone? Am I the only one here?

I walk, and walk, and walk - and as I do it seems to get even colder, causing me to shiver, my teeth chattering loudly. It passes right through my clothing, the thin white shorts and shirt with some blurred number stitched onto the chest; was I wearing that before? No, I was wearing pajamas...colourful...smelt vaguely spicy...

Suddenly I arrive at a door, polished mahogany that somehow doesn't fit the white surroundings. Something deeply hidden warns me not to go inside, to stay away...and yet I can hear noises from the other side, too muffled and indistinct to make out clearly. Where there are noises, there must be people, right? My hands reach up for the door before I can protest, pushing it open for my feet to carry me through to-

-An office, littered with messy files and notes written in scrawly spider handwriting. The walls are lined with dust covered volumes, and an old grandfather clock ticks away slowly in the corner. A chill runs up my spine when I realise where I am, this is-

"Chazz?" A confused voice calls out from behind me, "What's this...?"

"What-" I turn around, see sunkissed skin and a head of unruly brunet hair, "Jaden? What are you doing here?" I take a step towards him, but-

"Greeting, Mr Princeton," And suddenly _he's_ there without warning; cerulean eyes and a smirk that promises nothing but sin, a buttoned-up white doctor's coat and a golden nametag that catches the light, illuminating the words:

DR C. ADAMS

"You!" I choke, stumbling back, "But I - how did - how are you here?"

"You know the rules to our exchange," But he isn't talking to me, his blue eyes are trained on Jaden like a hawk watching its prey, "You give me something _I_ want and I'll give you something _you_ want."

And suddenly I _know_ - who he is, what he wants, what he's going to do; "You stay away from him!" I snarl furiously, "If you touch _one hair_ on his head, I'll-"

"-Won't let anyone else hurt you, Chazz. I promise," Jaden interrupts, and then his voice changes: soft, like kimono silk drenched in warm red, _"Promise me...you'll never become like them."_

Promise. I promised. But then I broke it, became just like the thing I despise - arrogant, bullying, cruel; I said I wouldn't and I did...why? Why did I forget? Why-

"Why Chazz, I'm teaching you a valuable life lesson: you can't have your own way all the time, and sometimes compromises have to be made," Adams grabs Jaden, leaving dirty blue handprints over his shoulders, and pushes him against the untidy desk, "Are you willing to compromise?"

"Get away from him!" I shout, but neither react, as though they can't hear me, "I _said_ get away from him! Jaden! Jaden, push him away! Why won't you listen to me?!"

He doesn't even blink at my shouting; _"No entiendo, hablo muy poco espanol..."_

"What are you talking abo- hey!" Adams leans closer to Jaden, brushing down the side of his face and leaving a cold blue trail in his wake, "Take your hands off of him! Right, that does-" I try to run forwards, but something wraps around my wrists and hauls me back. Before I can protest my arms are crossed over my chest and pulled sharply backwards; belts and buckles snap terrifyingly into place, keeping me bound.

"No! Let me go!" I flail uselessly on the floor before turning my head sharply upwards to see Adams running his icy fingers through Jaden's thick brown hair, "Jaden! _Jaden!_ Why can't you hear me?! Fight back, push him off!"

"Well?" Adams murmurs against Jaden's ear. One word. One answer. Jaden gazes at Adams, his eyes hollow and dead:

"...Yes."

"_No!_" I scream, arching upwards, but hands reach out and drag me back down again, "Get off! Please, I have to-"

_"We fail to see what is so amusing, Mr Princeton,"_ A woman says - I turn and see the familiar silhouette staring down at me, its featureless partner flanking my other side, But wait, they're not here anymore - _Two police officers killed in car crash_ - Jagger and Slade-

"You enthrall me, you know," Adams trails his fingers down Jaden's chest, and I simultaneously feel the cold prickle my skin, "Such a paradox, Chazz: delicate as glass yet stronger than steel, like spider silk." Why is he calling him Chazz? I'm Chazz, I should be the one up, there, the one getting violated...

"Leave him alone!" I try wriggling forwards again, but the hands drag me back, "Stop it! Don't you see what he's going to do to him?! Why doesn't anyone _believe_ me?!"

_"You're crazy..."_ Someone whispers. But I'm not insane! I'm _not!_

"I don't think you're insane, Chazz," I look up to meet Jaden's empty gaze, staring straight through me as Adams slowly unbuttons his white doctor's coat - oh no, don't you dare, don't you even _dare_-

"You're beautiful..." The coat slips to the floor.

-You fucking put a _hand_ on him and I'll rip you in two you sick son of a-

"You're perfect," He grasps Jaden's face in his hands.

-I'll kill you, I'll fucking KILL YOU!DON'TYOUFUCKINGTOUCHHIMHE'SNOTYOURSHE'SMINEYOUTWISTEDBASTARDTAKEYOURFILTHYHANDSOFFHIM-

"You're _mine_," Adams purrs. He seems to blur, his outline slowly twisting upwards like smoke, serpentine tendrils coiling around Jaden's slender body. And he turns to me, no longer Dr Adams but the nightmarish shadow that haunts my every move and poisons my thoughts. The mouth opens, grey slime oozing over its chin, dripping onto Jaden, _tainting_ him-

_"Whatever you hold dear to you,"_ It hisses like death, iniquitous blue eyes boring into my own, _"Whatever you love and cherish...I will destroy it."_

"No," I utter soundlessly, and then again: "NO!" I break free of the hands and haul myself forwards desperately. The shadow grins and morphs back into Adams. He turns back to Jaden. He runs a hand up Jaden's thigh.

* * *

-And I wake up screaming.

I'm vaguely aware of someone calling my name, asking then pleading for me to stop shrieking. Strong hands grasp at my wrists, which flail out instinctively, hitting anything they can reach. I thrash and writhe and twist and turn, but the person manages to pin me down until the last of my adrenaline is spent.

"...Chazz?" He asks tentatively.

The room is dark, everything masked by monochrome shadows - but from the hazy moonlight filtering through the linen-swathed window, I can just make him out. He's breathing harshly, shoulders still heaving from the exhaustion of overpowering me, and a fringe of perspiration decorates his brow. His brown eyes are wide with worry, shock, and maybe even a little fear.

"Chazz?" He asks again when I don't respond to him, "Chazz, are you alright? C'mon, say something."

"What..." I answer at last, voice hoarse and raw, probably from my earlier screams, "What...happened?"

"A bad dream," He says softly; deciding I'm no longer hysterical, he climbs off me and sits beside me on the bed, "I woke up and heard you screaming, so I came to investigate," He looks at me with...with what? Sympathy? Concern? Understanding? "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I..." I bite my lower lip hesitantly. I should...but I can't...but I _want_ to...but I don't...but he can...but he wouldn't...

"Just..." I struggle to stop my voice from trembling, "Just promise me..."

"Promise you what?" He asks gently, prompting me to continue.

"You won't...let them take me...will you?" I turn my gaze upwards to meet his, "You won't let them drag me back there?"

He doesn't understand, but nods anyway: "Of course not," He leans forward, wrapping his arms around me, "It's alright, Chazz. You're safe here."

"Thank you," I breathe, allowing myself to relax against him; I can feel the slow, steady beating of his heart where our torsos touch, oddly comforting.

"What was your nightmare about?" He questions after a few minutes.

"Pandora...empty...shadows...Adams..." I mumble tiredly. It's only when I feel him tense up that I realise my mistake.

"Adams?" Jaden pulls back to frown at me, "That doctor guy? What does he have to do with all this?"

"Nothing," I say quickly. Jaden shakes his head.

"He _does_ have something to do with it, doesn't he?" He accuses, "I know you're hiding something, Chazz. What happened?"

"_Nothing!_" I snap, "Just drop the subject, alright?!"

"But-" Jaden sighs and lowers his head, "Fine. I just wish you'd tell me what's wrong..."

"There's nothing wrong with me," I fold my arms over my chest, "Just go back to bed, slacker, we both need sleep."

"Do you want to sleep with me?"

"What?"

"Do you want to sleep in my bed?" I wonder if he's joking, but his face is deadly serious, "I don't mind sharing with you if you're still afraid."

"I'm not afraid!" I growl, "I'm not a little kid, you know, I can sleep by myself without needing someone to hold my hand. Now go back to your room."

"But-"

"Go. Back. To. Your. Room."

"...Alright," He gives in, standing up and heading for the door, "But if you change your mind-"

"-Which I won't."

"-Then I'll be next door," He finishes before leaving the room and shutting the door softly behind him. I sigh and flop back onto the bed, now in disarray from the movements of my nightmare, listening to the rustling of the bedsheets from next door as Jaden settles down. Exhausted, I close my eyes and allow myself to drift off...

_"My your hair is long! You reckon if I comb it right, it'll stay down?" Says Polly, pretty polly, polly had a dolly - "Buy yourself a meal, dollface, you need it." - just dressing up the doll before you play with it - Let's play with Jaden, Chazz. Chazz. Chazz? Chazz! Chazz..._

"Stop it!" I bolt upright in the bed again, cold sweat dripping from my brow before fading in the cool night air. I glance at the clock on the wall - 2:20 AM. So I haven't been sleeping long...I wonder if...? No, I can't, _won't_ look weak...and yet...

Jaden sits up in his bed when he hears the door open, rubbing his eyes tiredly, "Chazz? What's wrong?"

"Can I...?" I don't finish the sentence, but I don't need to; Jaden shuffles across in the bed and pats the empty space beside him. I close the door and gingerly make my way across to the bed: it's soft, untidy, ridiculously colourful with its E-hero decorated duvet. The walls are covered in bright duel-themed posters. I can hear the gentle rise and fall of the tide outside the window. It's as far removed from Pandora as possible.

I slip into the warm, welcoming depths of the sheets, pulling the covers over me and Jaden; no sooner have I laid down when I feel a body shift closer to mine and an arm wrap around my waist. I tense immediately - but it's only Jaden, he won't do anything, not like Adams...

Soon Jaden's breathing becomes heavier, a tickling warmth on the back of my neck. I can feel the slow, rhythmic rising and falling of his chest against my back, the slight flexing his fingers loosely clutching the front of my shirt.

A few minutes pass. Then an hour. Then two hours.

I rub my eyes furiously, willing myself to sleep, but unable to. I'm tired, no doubt, but my body refuses to rest, my mind unwilling to be lured into slumber. I want to sleep and yet...maybe a part of me _doesn't_ want to in case I dream again.

With a resigned groan I shrug off Jaden's arm and sit upright, bringing my knees up to my chest to rest my chin on. Jaden stirs a little at the movement, and I spare him a glance: deep in the realms of sleep - probably dreaming something duel-related - with his eyes closed peacefully and his hair even messier than usual. I wonder how often he brushes it? Only when he's nagged enough, I suppose - unlike me, who actually takes care of his appearance. Well..._did_ take care of his appearance, now not so much. I'm not quite as pristine as I used to be.

But Jaden...he _always_ looks good, even without putting in any effort. He never has to try for anything, he's just naturally _good_ at it, whilst the rest of us struggle and bicker to achieve second-best. Look at him lying there. Even now he still looks perfect.

_Flawless, like a doll,_ A familiar wanton whisper echoes in my ear, _Shall we play with him?_

"You again?" I speak aloud, annoyed, "Don't you have someone else to bother?"

_But I want to play with Jaden. We can do it now, and no-one will ever know, not even him._

"I'm not going to listen to you, you know," I glare at the silhouette duplicate of myself, "Just give it up."

_He won't feel a thing if we're careful. Go on, try it._

"I'mnotlisteninglalalala, I'mnotlisteninglalalala-"

_Look,_ It grasps my face and turns my head sharply towards Jaden's sleeping figure, _He's there. He's helpless. He's yours._

"He isn't - I don't want-"

_Stop lying to yourself, you want him and you know it,_ It hisses, _You don't have to hurt him, just touch him._

"But..." I stare at Jaden apprehensively. So warm...so close...

_Just give it a go,_ The shadow purrs, _What harm can it do?_

I hesitate, then slowly reach out and touch Jaden's hair; I worry he'll wake up, but he remains in a deep sleep. I try again, a little bolder this time, running my fingers through the thick strands - the corners of Jaden's mouth curve upwards in a small, content smile.

_See? He likes it,_ The shadow points out, _Keep going_.

My fingers leave his hair and go to his face, brushing his eyelids, his nose, his soft lips. He unconsciously nuzzles into my palm as I caress his cheeks, and I feel...strange. Warm and light, somehow, at receiving such affection; better than I've felt in a long time. The shadow doesn't need to urge me to continue; I do so automatically. My hands move down to his neck, trailing feather light against the tender skin, and Jaden shivers with pleasure. So he's sensitive there...best file that away in mental storage, it could come in useful at some later point.

I move onto his shoulders, rubbing them gently before trailing my fingers down his arm, pausing at the pulse in his wrist, which seems to have quickened slightly. I continue onto the hand, stroking the palm - his fingers twitch lightly in response, touching my own as if trying to hold hands. Again I feel warm, wanted...loved. I travel to his sides, just lightly touching the ribs; Jaden squirms in reply. Oh, so he's ticklish there? Again, useful information...I'm tempted to continue, but I'm too worried he'll wake up.

I stroke his collarbone delicately before returning to his chest, massaging him through the cotton of his pajama shirt. He shifts slightly, making a low purr of content in the back of his throat; I shudder with delight when I hear it, the hairs on the back of my neck prickling pleasantly. Who knew I could get _that_ response out of him? I trail my fingers lower, over his stomach...and then lower...and then...

_Go on,_ The shadow's voice startles me - I was so caught up in Jaden I almost forgot it was there, _What are you waiting for? Keep going._

"I don't know if I should..." I whisper, staring at the now mildly flustered Jaden, "Is this really right...?"

_Of course it is. You're not hurting anyone - look, already he's enjoying it,_ The voice breathes in my ear, and I feel the words leak into my conscience, _Go on, just a little further...just a little more..._

Hesitantly I nudge Jaden's legs apart, deftly trailing my fingertips up the smooth, revealed expanse of his inner thigh - Jaden trembles with pleasure, and subsequently so do I. I push the material of his boxer shorts further up to reach more bare flesh, tracing small circles on the hypersensitive skin; our breathing starts to pick up, evenly matched. It takes a while to build up the courage before I can drift upwards, ghosting my fingertips over Jaden's member. The response is immediate: a sharp moan that causes me to yank my hand back and flush brilliant red.

That...may well be the best sound I've ever heard.

I reach for him again, eager to hear more; tracing a single finger along the half-hard length elicits another sensual moan that makes all the blood rush from my brain and head southwards. The room is filled with the sound of heavy breathing - although his or mine, I can't tell which.

The pleasured moans are delicious, but not enough; craving for more, I wrap my entire hand around him, a thrill of pleasure resonating through me as Jaden squirms helplessly in my grasp, hips bucking slightly. Give him what he wants...fist tenuously tightened, I start to move up and down slowly, teasingly. A low, guttural cry rumbles from the back of Jaden's throat and travels straight to my groin, making me dizzy and light-headed.

The fear of waking Jaden seems to have disappeared as I move faster, more desperately. The shadow cackles in the background, but I ignore that too - now there's only me and Jaden, the rest of the world is a blur. As he writhes frantically underneath me, I become aware of a throbbing ache between my own legs, and my free hand absentmindedly drifts down to attend to it.

The sudden brushing of flesh against flesh seems to snap something in me; I yelp and pull my hands back from Jaden and myself as though I've touched fire. Jaden makes a disappointed groan in his sleep and squirms some more in desire of completion, but I don't respond. Fucking mother of God...what the hell was I _doing?!_ Touching Jaden in his sleep - _violating_ him! It's sick, it's wrong, it's...

...Exactly the sort of thing Adams would do.

I gaze at the hand that touched Jaden, horrified. The shadow protests against my actions, but I barely hear it; seeing it won't persuade me any further for now, it sinks back into the darkness. Jaden whines slightly in need, but contrary to before, the sound makes my blood run cold. I turn away, sickened, and force myself to lay back down, keeping a safe distance away from Jaden. The burning ache between my legs begs for attention, and Jaden still writhing for release on the bed isn't helping any, but I will myself not to touch it.

Eventually Jaden calms down, his writhing ceased and his breathing normal; I, however, do not. Even so, I lie perfectly still, eyes wide open and looking at the poster-plastered wall without really seeing it. His dreams returned to normal, Jaden sighs happily and turns over in his sleep to snuggle me; the burn increases, verging on painful, but I entwine my hands into the blankets and force them to stay there. I can't touch myself, not now - it's filthy, dirty, _wrong_. I can't touch Jaden either, mustn't taint him with my sin, not after he promised to look after me...

We're back to square one - I stay there like a statue, cold and unmovable. Jaden radiates warmth, but I can't feel it; I'm drowning in the frost, like Adams' blue eyes and icy fingers...my eyes sting, vision blurring and throat constricting painfully. Something wet trickles down my face and onto the soft, spicy-scented sheets.

But I'm not crying.

I'm definitely not crying.

* * *

I don't sleep, just watch the clock until it's deemed an acceptable hour to 'wake up'. At 7:00 AM precisely I slip out of the bedsheets and pad softly down the hall towards the bathroom.

The cold shower stings, but diminishes what's left of that...that _thing_ between my legs. I refuse to look at it, vigorously scrubbing myself down, perhaps harder than I need to. I get out and wash my hands until the soap is a sliver of its former self, then return to me - or rather, Jaden's parents' - bedroom for clothes.

The sheets are almost violently rumpled from my earlier nightmares, half-trailed on the floor with one of two pillows. Smelling the trace of sweat lingering in the air, I decide to get dressed and then change the bedsheets, tidying the bed as though smoothing over the memory of my dreams. When everything is clean and fresh, and all evidence suggesting otherwise is in the laundry basket, I head downstairs to start breakfast.

I pass through the entrance hall, seeing a single envelope lying on the floor. Strange, when was that delivered? I pick it up, frowning: addressed to a Mr Jaden Yuki. I'm curious as to what it is, but I'd better leave it for Jaden to open. Leaving it on the dining table, I head into the kitchen and busy myself with food.

Jaden comes down about an hour later, hair still damp and grumbling about how the shower was cold this morning. Hn, maybe I should tell him it was my fault for turning the temperature down...nah.

"Huh? What's this?" Jaden asks, spotting the latter on the table and picking it up curiously.

"Letter addressed to you. Must've been posted last night or something."

"A letter? For me?" He frowns, opening it. I see his eyes flick back and forth as he reads the words, then suddenly widen. the letter slips from his grasp and falls to the floor.

"What is it?" I query; his lack of response unnerves me a little, "Jaden? What's wrong?"

"It's a letter from Duel Academy," He tells me slowly, and I feel a ripple of shock run up my spine, "It's starting up again for new year...in three weeks time."

* * *

Dun-dun-duuuun! I'm not entirely happy with the dream sequence at the start, but I re-wrote it about five times and that was the best I could come up with. The lemony-lime wasn't so bad...but what did YOU think? Was it good? Was it bad? Are you bright red in the face? Do review, I love reading them so very much. I'm not making any promises on updates - it'll come when it comes, but it _will_ happen. Until next time! 


	12. Zenith

Sorry for the delay blah blah writers block blah blah you know the drill blah blah.

**Warnings:** Since somebody doesn't seem to get the message...THIS IS A YAOI STORY. THAT MEANS IT CONTAINS BOYLOVE. DON'T READ THE STORY IF YOU'RE NOT INTO THAT SORT OF THING. It even says in the summary what the pairing will be, honestly...

**eiensora:** Argh, more spelling mistakes (sighs) I blame this on trying to get the chapter typed up in a hurry. I've gone back and changed them, thanks for pointing that out.

**The Goddess Azure Thunder: **I should think so eventually, yes.

**Coco Gash Jirachi: **Don'cha just love Zane? He's so sweet and...dull. But sweet!

**Allaboutromance:** Hey, new reviewer! Glad you liked it! Unfortunately I'm terrible with updates, so don't expect new chapters to come real fast, kay?

**Kat:** Ah, I'm not that good a writer. But if you really enjoy what you do, it'll show through your work (sounds cheesy, but it's true!)

**Sandaa: **You're not the only one to tell me not to rush...do you think the chapters are going by too fast? Hopefully this one will slow it down a bit, but I don't want the story dragging out either. Anyway, glad you liked the middle part, although not everyone seems to agree...

**Massacre Maker:** Alright! I made someone bright red in the face! (for a change, it's usually me who's scarlet...)

**Garnet-Crystals: **Trust me, no-one in the seven hells will guess the ending. It's good that you pity him, that's what I was aiming for...after all, there's no point in sugar-coating mental illness and abuse. Plus, he only seems to be getting worse...

**random reviewer:** Hey, thanks! It's good to know people really like this.

**RyuuKai:** (explanation sent in PM) Glad you like the story! I figured there wasn't enough Chazz-centric or insanity-themed fics out there...so why not combine the two?

**JamieStabine0011:** Good heavens, that's almost a flame...here's a message sweetie: IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, DON'T READ IT. You're quite capable of skipping sections, are you not? To think you didn't complain about all the rape scenes...anyone who knows me knows I am a passionate yaoite, I don't write anything else. So if you don't like boylove - which, by the way, there's going to be a lot more of in the future - then you'd best just click the back button.

I don't own yugioh GX. If you haven't got that message by now, there's something seriously wrong with you.

* * *

Delirium, part twelve (Zenith) 

Time seems so much more precious when you know it's limited.

Three weeks may seem like a fair amount of time - but suddenly one week has flown by, dwindled in each other's company. We eat in silence, we play Duel Monsters, we walk down the stony beach talking about this and that whilst deliberately skirting around the topic of Pandora. Everything seems so...so _normal_, I could almost forget our predicament and believe we'll stay like this forever. But it always comes back to haunt me: Jaden will have to go back to Duel Academy in two weeks. 14 days. 336 hours.

Jaden hasn't brought up the subject since he read the letter. I could say that maybe he doesn't care, but...he's just as worried as I am. I can see it in his eyes; with every passing day there's less hope and more desperation - I'm sure I look no different. He sometimes looks hesitant, like there's something he wants to say or do, but he doesn't know how. It bothers me; I wish I knew what was going on in that head of his. Although mind you, I have enough of my _own_ problems, I don't need anyone else's.

Speaking of which...

I still touch him every night. I know I shouldn't, I _know_ it's wrong, but...I can't help myself, it just happens. The other room gives me nightmares, so I've taken to sleeping in his bed - 'sleeping' being used in the loosest way possible. I don't sleep, I never sleep...I lie awake until I hear his breathing deepen. Then I roll over and watch him for exactly 32 minutes. And then it starts...it's become some sort of twisted ritual, my nightly sin.

I've never brought him to a finish though - I can stop it at that, at least. The shadow keeps trying to convince me to go further, but I've stopped listening; I can't go that far, I can't corrupt him. To be tainted is one thing, but to taint another...but so long as he never climaxes, he isn't sinful, right? He isn't dirty?

"Chazz," Jaden says, dragging me from my conflicting thoughts, "Are you okay? You've been staring at the fireplace for almost an hour."

"Just thinking," Thinking about how much - or rather, how _little_ - time we have left. 'Almost an hour'...that's another 60 minutes that have slipped away, bringing us even closer to our final farewell.

"You shouldn't think too much, you know," He tells me quite seriously, "It gets thing mixed up in your head, then everything builds up until you just go - kaboom!"

"'Kaboom'?" I raise a slender eyebrow, "Interesting theory. It might explain why you got such appalling grades on the last test."

"At least I haven't exploded," He points out, which makes me wonder if maybe I really _did_ explode somewhere along the line...in a non-literal sense, of course. He turns his attention back to his deck, which he shuffles absentmindedly; I find myself wishing he'd put it away, think about something other than card games, more important things - like our situation. He keeps shuffling, shuffling...I worry my lower lip incessantly, something I've been doing more often recently out of nervous habit. The sensitive skin stings in protest, but even the pain isn't enough of a distraction from my thoughts:

"Jaden," I blurt out before I can stop myself, "What are we gonna do...?"

"Today? It's pretty cold out, so I figured we'd stay indoors-"

"No, about Duel Academy. I meant about Duel Academy," I cut across him breathlessly, "Two weeks away, Jaden...what the heck do we do?"

Jaden lowers his eyes, fiddling with the cards in his hand; "I haven't really thought about it," He says quietly.

"You always put things off to the last minute," I snap, suddenly irritable, "This isn't homework, Jaden. We might never see each other again."

He looks surprised, "Of course we'll see each other!"

"No we won't," I fold my arms, "You're going back to Duel Academy. I'm not. Do the math, moron."

"Can't they just let you back in? If I talk to Chancellor Sheppard-"

"Jaden, I'm a convicted criminal. I'm supposed to be in a _mental asylum_, which I escaped, and the police are currently searching for my whereabouts. They're not going to let me back into Duel Academy."

"But-"

"Sheppard likes you, but he isn't going to smuggle a psychopath into his school especially not when that's where the attacks actually took place."

"You're not a psychopath!"

My heart warms slightly, but I don't let it show, "No, but everyone _thinks_ I am; you're the only one who understands me anymore. If you ask Sheppard about this, he'll know you're helping me, and he'll get the police involved," I cut off the 'he wouldn't!' before it can escape Jaden's lips, "_Yes_, he would, it's his duty as principal to ensure the safety of his students. You'd get involved in the whole mess, and the police wouldn't leave you alone until you admitted where I was."

"But..." He trails off unhappily, knowing he's lost the argument, "What if you got a new identity? Registered under a different name?"

"I don't have the money nor the means to acquire a fake identity detailed enough to bypass their background checks," I snap, "Besides, even if I _did_, someone from Duel Academy would recognise me - my voice, my behaviour, my deck. If they reported me, I'd get hauled off by the police again; it's too risky."

"Well what about - about - why don't you stow away on the ship? You could hide out in the wilderness, and I'd come visit you - and bring you sandwiches-"

"Do you honestly think I could last five minutes in that jungle? I don't know the first thing about survival, I wouldn't have a clue what to do - and what would I eat? What would I wear? I can't depend on you to attend to my every need without raising suspicion."

"Well - well you could-" He appears flustered now, his mind wildly throwing out ideas regardless of logic, "You could stay in the Slifer dorms, underneath my bed, and-"

"Jaden!" I bark, making him shut up instantly, "I. Cannot. Go. Back. To. Duel. Academy! I've thought it through - I've thought of _nothing else_ - and there's no way around it! You have to go back to Duel Academy, and I'll never see you again!"

"Don't say that!" He stands up, eyes shining with desperation, "We'll see each other again, I promise - you can stay here as long as you like, and when the term is over I'll come and see you-"

"That's months. Months and months away from each other-"

"I'll email every day! I'll call and write letters too!" He cries, almost pleading with me, "I'll pay attention in class - I'll write notes and post them to you so you can take lessons as well! And I'll close my eyes and pretend real hard that you're sitting behind me like you always do-"

"Stop it!" I grab him by the shoulders, fingers digging painfully into the skin, "Don't you see that it won't work? And if anyone traces the phone calls and emails, or finds the letters to me, then what? What if they find me and arrest me, _then_ what?"

"I...I..." He stares at me wide-eyes, maybe even a little fearful of my increasingly hysteric tone. I don't give him the chance to answer:

"They'll take me back to Pandora...to _him_..." I whisper, the mere memories of white walls and blue eyes making me shiver with horror, "I can't go back there, you understand?! I _can't_ go back there!"

"Chazz," He calls, trying to pry my hands from his shoulders, which grip so harshly you can see the white bone of my knuckle beneath the skin, "Chazz, let go, you're hurting me..."

"I can't go back there...to the white...everything's so _white_..." Suddenly I'm not in Jaden's living-room, but thrown back into the memory of Pandora, "So much white it's blinding...to cover up the stains...4021..."

"Chazz? What's wrong? Chazz, can you still hear me?"

"Hands everywhere...where they shouldn't be...so _cold!_" I gasp at the sharp drop in temperature; my body shakes uncontrollably, teeth chattering, "Straightjacket...screaming...no more..."

"Chazz?" Warm fingers touch my face, and I snap back into reality. I'm still here, in front of Jaden, bruising his arms with my vicious fingers; I let go at once, guilt washing over me. Jaden stares at me with a mix of emotions: fear, anxiety, confusion, pity...neither of us moves. Neither of us speaks.

...Awkward silence...

"I'm gonna...just go outside for a little while, okay Chazz?" Jaden declares at last, stepping backwards; it feels as if he's backing away from me as though I were a wild animal, "I need some time to think by myself...but I'll be back soon, yeah?"

"Yeah..." I echo emptily. He retreats from the room promptly, leaving me standing by myself.

I stand there numbly in his absence, arms hanging limply by my sides, unseeing eyes staring straight ahead. The deadly silence starts to gnaw away at me, becoming more evident with each passing second; I strain my ears for a sound to hear, something, _anything_...

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

I let out a slow sigh of relief at the noise echoing from the grandfather clock stood up against one of the walls. I listen to its steady, reliable rhythm fill the room with sound:

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

I start to hear other noises too: the ticking of the clock, the mild crackle of the fire, the ticking of the clock, my own raspy breathing, the ticking of the clock...but the ticking seems to drown out all the other noises almost aggressively, demanding to be heard.

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

Hm...that's quite loud, actually. I wonder why I never noticed it before?

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

That's getting a little annoying now. I'll try focusing on something else...

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

It's no use, I can't hear anything else. Damn. That. Sound. Is. Irri. Tating. Making. Me. Talk. In. Clock. Rhythms...ugh, maybe I should just leave. I swiftly exit the room and its annoying ticking, going upstairs in search of another sound to concentrate on. Hm, what about the bathroom? Plenty of noises to focus on there...I let myself into the tiled space, heading for the sink and flicking on both taps. The sound of gushing water soothes me - a melody of ever-changing notes, not like that irritating clock. I settle myself on the closed toilet seat, resting my head against the cool tiles behind me and closing my eyes...

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

I crack one eye open, frowning; where is that noise coming from? I try to ignore it, but it grows louder, far louder than the flow of water. I look around and eventually spot a plain blue clock hanging on the wall. Who the hell has a clock in their bathroom?

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

With a growl I turn the taps off and stomp out of the room for somewhere else to stay. Perhaps I'll just get some rest...I head for Jaden's bedroom and throw myself onto the unmade bed, letting myself sink into the soft mattress. Ah, that's better, maybe I can get some sleep...

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

I bolt upright at once, eyes narrow and accusing. Alright, _where_ is that sound coming from? My gaze falls on the paper-littered bedside table; amongst the empty cocoa mugs is a happy Kuriboh-shaped clock from which the endless noise permeates:

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

"Argh!" I shout, flopping back onto the bed. Just how many clocks does one household need? With a groan I roll onto my side away from the clock, trying to block out the unceasing sound. When that doesn't work, I blindly grab a pillow and clamp it over my head, hoping to muffle the noise.

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

It's so _loud_...how does Jaden sleep through this racket? And why have I never noticed how noisy these clocks were before? The sound of it fills every crevice of my mind, making my head buzz and throb, body twitching with every beat.

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

"Make it stop," I moan, holding the pillow tighter as my muscles shudder at the sound. Every beat is a second, another second wasted away until our deadline two weeks away, the end of our time...

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

Time...they say time heals all wounds, but doesn't it cause them as well? Time destroys everything in the end, makes you waste away until you're nothing but dust. When you're young, when you're at the peak of your beauty and strength...you can only go downhill from there. Time will ruin you, make you old and gnarled over so you can barely move. Time wastes away your body and mind until there's nothing left.

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

Man measures time, and time measures man...men talk of killing time whilst time quietly kills them. Time controls everything, don't you see? How long we work and rest, when we eat, when we sleep, when we go out and socialise - all determined by time! 'Nothing is ours except time' - but we don't own time, it owns us; so we own nothing, we _are_ nothing. Time and tide wait for no man, we're not the ones in control. Time created us over nine months, raised us throughout our lives, killed us when our time was up...

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

Time is a great teacher that kills all it's pupils, time is a great healer and a wise counselor...time is everything, time is an illusion, time is money-

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

-Time lost is never found again, time flies by when you're having fun, time is fleeting, times a-wasting, times past, time's _up!_

"Stop it!" I shriek, grabbing the clock from the bedside table and throwing it against the wall. It crunches easily, cogs and wheels flying out everywhere and falling to the floor like rain. I stare at the puddle of metal, an odd satisfaction creeping up inside me, bringing a twisted smile to my lips.

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

My head snaps up instantly at the sound, ears listening carefully. There, through the wall...another clock next door, in the white bedroom. I leap off the bed and dash into the next room, eyes darting about wildly for the source of the noise.

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

There it is on the window-sill, a little china figure ticking away mockingly. It's reminding me of how little time I have left, _laughing_ at me...I have to get rid of it, _now!_

It halts mid-tick as I throw it to the floor, watching the delicate china shatter onto the carpet. But I can still hear ticking, louder if anything. All the clocks in the house tick in sync, the noise deafening to my ears. The clocks...there was a clock in the bathroom, remember, find, destroy...

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

I race into the bathroom, jumping up and seizing the clock from the wall. Flimsy plastic, it breaks apart in my hands, the ticking ceased. But there's still more, there's _always_ more...

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

Time, time, _time_...time for everything, time for nothing, time of my life. For all the time in the world, there's never enough of it...I run down the stairs noisily, spot the pendulum clock hanging on the wall and promptly throw it to the ground, stomping on the pieces and spreading glass everywhere.

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

So much to do, so little _time_...there's a sandy-coloured clock hanging in the kitchen, which I destroy with a steely knife. Sandy, sand, sands of time. Sand slips away like time. Sand is made by time.

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

Only one clock left, one single, continuous pattern of sound. I walk back into the living-room, surveying my last clock, the loudest of all; the grandfather clock stands tall and proud in the dim sunshine filtering through the window, it's polished surface gleaming and it's sneering mustache of clock hands sniggering at me. It's draining away the time Jaden and I have together, taking him further away from me with each malicious beat.

It reminds me of the one in Adams' office...

...It needs to be destroyed.

No time like the present.

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock..._

-And no more. I lunge for it, fingers curling around the back to drag it to the centre of the room. It resists at first, weighing more than I expected, but after a struggle, I win. I step sideways as it topples forwards, watching it hit the floor; the glass face ripples and shatters almost poetically, splinters of wood flying out in opposite directions. The back snaps open, sending coiled springs and delicate cogs all over the carpet.

And then...there's silence.

Nothing. No ticking clocks, no crackling fire, not even the sound of breath. The glass lays like shattered diamond at my feet, the dull mechanics rejecting the reflection of light. I stay perfectly still, and wonder just what the hell I've done.

Footsteps. The door opens.

"What's all that noise?" Jaden steps into the room; his brown eyes widen in shock at the sight, "What the-"

I say nothing. A terrible feeling is coming over me, a wash of confusion, guilt and regret. I swallow nervously.

"What - what _happened?_" Silence. "Chazz? Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"I'm sorry," I whisper at last, "I didn't mean..."

"You did this? But Chazz, why?"

"I'm sorry," I repeat; my throat constricts, making my voice strained and raspy, "I'm so sorry..."

"It's..." He hesitates uncomfortably before walking over to the fallen clock, examining it, "It's alright. It's not too badly damaged...did you destroy all the other clocks too?"

"It's just...I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," My vision blurs and burns; Jaden becomes a haze of colour, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

"Hey..." He sounds concerned at my mantra of apologies, "It's okay, they can be fixed. Chazz...Chazz? C'mon now, don't cry, it's not that bad."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Repeated over and over again like a prayer. I can't say anything else anymore - Jaden, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...

"Chazz? Chazz, can you hear me?" He talks over my mumbling, now quite worried, "Chazz, it's alright. You don't need to apologise, they're just clocks."

He doesn't understand, I _do_ need to apologise. He puts his arms around me with a murmur of: 'You're worse than I thought...' and whispers soothing comforts in my ear. But I don't stop; I _can't_ stop, not ever.

Because it isn't just the clocks I'm apologising for.

* * *

An hour and a cup of hot cocoa later, I've finally got over my delirious breakdown. We sit in the living-room with the tall grandfather clock and a near-empty tub of superglue, waiting for the re-assembled glass shards to dry. You can still see all the cracks in the clock face, all fitted together like a jigsaw puzzle. Jaden claims it looks art decor. I just think it looks like a broken clock. 

"Huh," Jaden says as he fiddles with the clockwork in an unsuccessful attempt at fixing it, "It's no use, it won't work. Ah, it doesn't matter, I'll just tell Mom and Dad that it fell over."

"I..." But the words don't come out. Jaden smiles warmly.

"It's okay, Chazz. I already told you I forgive you, remember?"

But he can't. He can't ever forgive me. After all, how can you forgive someone when you don't know what they've done to you? How they've dirtied and infected you?

"Should be dry by now," Jaden stands the clock up in its rightful place, "Perfect! Well, it doesn't tell the time anymore, but at least it looks the part."

It doesn't matter. Even if I managed to destroy all the clocks, I still can't stop time. So long as there's the sun and moon in the sky, so long as the earth keeps moving, time will exist. Unless I get Bastion to make me a machine to stop time...but even he can't do that. There's no hope left. Time will take Jaden away from me.

"Chazz?" Jaden asks, "Uh-oh, you're getting that inner-monologue look again...c'mon, you know what those things do to you."

I try to smile, but find it impossible; "I don't know..." I say quietly, "I just don't know what to do anymore..."

Jaden's face falls serious as well, "I don't think there's anything we _can_ do," He replies, "Except try to forget our worries and enjoy the time we have left."

"It's not fair," I lower my head, ebony hair shielding my face. It's not fair...why is nothing ever fair? Is it so much to ask to have something good happen to me for once?

"Chazz?" Jaden asks gently as my shoulders start to tremble, "Come on, don't cry."

"I'm n-not cry-ing," I hastily pick myself up from the floor, "I ju-just gotta...do something-" I try to run out of the door, but Jaden scrambles after me and catches me half-way, latching onto my arm.

"Chazz, wait. _Wait_," He tells me patiently, holding onto me despite my weak struggles, "You can't just keep running away all the time. Stay here with me...please."

I stop fighting, too exhausted to continue. This knowledge, this burden...it's draining my energy away, giving way to only numb lethargy; it's an effort even just to remain standing. I don't protest when Jaden puts his arms around me, resting his chin on my shoulder and vice versa, and rubbing wide circles into my back. I summon the effort to wrap my arms around his waist, breathing in his rich, spicy scent.

Time passes, far more than acceptable for a friendly hug. He doesn't let go. Neither do I.

"Jaden," I whisper at last, "I feel...strange."

"I know. Sort of tingly, right?" I nod numbly, "Yeah, me too. My heart's going like crazy."

"What does this mean?"

"I...don't know," He admits, moving closer to me and closing the gap between us. Yeah, this definitely isn't just a friendly hug anymore... "It's nice though."

"I don't think we're supposed to feel this way," He shifts slightly against me; my heart flutters erratically, "Two boys, I mean."

"Does it matter?" He lifts his head, mere centimetres away from mine. I'm not sure who moves in, maybe both of us, and then...

It's not so much a kiss as a brushing of the lips, but it's still enough to send a sharp thrill down my spine. My lips tingle as though touched by electricity, suddenly ultra-sensitive. I glance at Jaden, who's tinged with pink and breathing hard.

"Jaden, we should..." The sky outside is getting dark, "...Go to bed."

"With me?" He asks hopefully.

My face heats up; I determinedly ignore it, "Of course."

* * *

I'm in an endless field, surrounded by tall grass and wildflowers that sway in the breeze. The sky is blue, not sapphire blue like unwanted memories, but playful aqua. Crisp white clouds roll by like cotton, looking solid enough to stand on and watch the world below. 

Jaden sits opposite me in his ridiculously cheerful pajamas, as colourful as the flowers around us. It doesn't smell like flowers, though; it's smells like...like cinnamon. Where have I smelt that before? A summer breeze plays through his hair, lifting brunet strands to dance in the wind. I feel so safe here, surrounded by these walls of flowers, a sanctuary that even the darkest thoughts can't penetrate. Jaden smiles, sensing my content, and grasps at my hands, fingers interlacing with my own.

My heart rate picks up suddenly, mouth becoming oddly dry. That's weird...that's how I normally feel around Alexis, only this is stronger, much stronger.. I try to say something, but nothing comes to mind. Jaden just shakes his head, an amused sparkle in his eye. I try to speak again, but he puts a warm finger against my lips, hushing my words. I'm painfully aware at how close he is, and how easy it would be just to reach out and...

I touch his face tentatively, trailing down his neck and then his shoulder. He trembles pleasantly under my touch, lips moving but no sound coming out. I lean closer, linking my arms around his slender waist and nuzzling into the juncture between neck and shoulder. He's so warm...his face especially, it seems to radiate heat. His chest moves against mine as though breathing heavily, although I can't hear it. This one, I think, is mine.

I push him back, laying on top of him and flattening the grass beneath us. My hands let go of his waist to bury in his thick hair, running it through my fingers. I place my lips against his neck, and a single, breathless sound escapes him:

"Ch-Chazz..."

* * *

It snaps me awake. 

I wonder, briefly, what the frantic thudding rhythm is beneath me, why it's so warm, and why it smells of cinnamon. Then I pull back and see Jaden's two brown eyes, particularly wide, staring up at me.

"Er, hi Chazz," He says.

It takes me another second to realise that I'm lying on top of him, that our legs are tangled together, and that my hands are very much embedded in his mop of hair. I slowly remove them, bracing them against the mattress to lift myself off Jaden and onto my knees.

"Nice dream?" He speaks again, trying to break the silence. His cheeks are dusted red, not so much from embarrassment as...over-activity, it would seem.

"...What did I do?" I question.

"Erm, well, first you put your arms around me," He explains; he's slightly breathless, I notice, "Then you started to get a bit...enthusiastic, and you rolled on top of me...then you touched my face and neck and...yeah."

I lower my head, thinking deeply; so basically, I acted out my dream...he doesn't seem too annoyed with me, though. I notice him gripping the sheets quite tightly, keeping them firmly pulled over his waist. His face is still red, and he's staring awkwardly at a spot on the wall.

I bring a hand to my own chest, feeling the heartbeat under my fingertips. It's still thumping painfully...I feel light-headed, almost dizzy but not unpleasantly so. What does this mean? Why did I have a dream like that, and about Jaden of all people? This is completely his fault for making me feel like this!

"Chazz?" Jaden asks when he notices I'm glaring at him, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You idiot," I growl, "Look what you've gone and done: you've made me like you."

"Like you?" He blinks, nonplussed, "Well that's okay. We're friends, aren't we?"

"No you moron!" I snarl, "I mean you've made me _like you_ like you!"

"...Oh," It dawns on him. He looks away, eyes concentrated as though in deep thought. Silence reigns for the next few seconds.

"Um..." He says at last, having come to an apparent decision, "I...I like you like you too, Chazz." He confesses sheepishly.

I stare. He stares. We stare. Much staring commences.

"...I'm going to sleep," I groan, lying back down on the bed and pulling the duvet over us both. I feel Jaden snuggle up to my back, although he still retains a wary distance. Being the Slifer slacker that he is, he soon falls asleep, his breathing deep and rhythmic. I remain awake, my brow furrowed in thought, glaring out into the darkness. I like Jaden, Jaden likes me...where does this take us? What happens from now on? We could continue as normal, but I doubt that's going to happen - everything has changed between us, but for better or for worse?

This is too much to deal with now...I'll just think about it in the morning.

...But not before I molest Jaden again.

* * *

As you can see, the story is taking a turn for the romantic (well, as romantic as you can get in Chazz's POV) so expect plenty of yaoiness in upcoming chapters. We may even have a sort-of-but-not-really lemon next chapter...you'll see what I mean by that, but it should be fun. Anyway, what was your verdict on the chapter? Was it good? Was it bad? Was it confusing? Has it made you contemplate the meaning of time thus resulting in a headache? (yeah, me too) Leave your comments in a review! 


	13. Maladroit

As I'm sure you'll realise, I was feeling particularly giddy whilst writing certain parts of this chapter (hooray for immaturity!) **Littlest-Angel**, remember when you dared me to put Jaden's 'The Big Book of Chat-Up Lines' in somewhere? Well be careful what you wish for...

**Warnings:** Almost-but-not-really **lemon**, mentions of **pornograhy**, some **swearing** and **cheesy chat-up lines**.

By the way, we've reached over 100 reviews! (throws confetti in the air) My thanks to everyone who commented!

**eiensora:** More spelling mistakes...I'll need to put more effort into reading through the chapter before posting it.

**Massacre Maker: **Yes, yes he is.

**Natasuki:** Yeah, I did intend for it to be quite funny, then annoying, then a bit creepy - follows Chazz's way of thinking, no? Time is a scary thing and we shouldn't contemplate it too much lest we all get killer headaches...and yay for un-sucky romance! I aim to defy all the cliches of yaoi smex!

**Coco Gash Jirachi:** Yes, that is an incredibly, incredibly long review, featuring a song opening, and earthquake and several cameos. Plus crickets! You gotta love those crickets...unless you're Chazz, of course. Reminds him of the clock sounds, you see.

**Allaboutromance:** Of course I'll write more, silly.

**Garnet-Crystals:** Thanks! Although your view is decidedly pessimistic...we shall have to see if it is actually correct.

**Littlest-Angel: **Heey, you're back! Nah, I'd say we're about the same in writing skill - after all, you can do some things that I could _never_ make work, especially when it comes to humour. Glad you thought Chazz was IC, I didn't want your cliche 'Jaden, I love you...' confession (which woulda been nice, but unrealistic, truth be told). I figured destroying the clocks would be a good way to show Chazz isn't over his delirium yet (a relapse, maybe) plus I wanted to get across his panic at losing Jaden.

**Sandaa:** Glad you liked! Although the lusty stuff starts in this chapter...but hopefully it won't be as cliched as other romance stories. Glad you liked the realism - I wanted to incorporate all the aspects of Chazz's life, not just the romance. I mean, there's the guilt, the sexual confusion, the desperation not to lose Jaden, the feelings about being 'sinful' and of course the remains of his delirium...

**RyuuKai:** Hello fellow insomniac! Don't worry, I'll try not to drag it out too long.

**Katastrophic Melt Down:** I dunno, with some of the dreams Chazz has, you definitely wouldn't want _those_ to become a reality...

**YamiAlexyuta:** Trust me, you're not the only one who had to dash for some asprin.

I do not own yugioh GX or its respective characters. But I _do_ own Dr Adams! Not that a creepy psychopath is worth much these days...

* * *

Delirium, part thirteen (Maladroit) 

"'When they made the alphabet they should have put U and I together'."

I look up from the magasine I'm reading to see Jaden leaning over me, his eyelids lowered in what I _think_ is supposed to be a seductive gaze, and a scrap of paper in his hands. He falters a little at my deadpanned look, throwing the paper aside and pulling another one out of his pocket to read:

"'Was your father a thief? 'Cause someone stole the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes'."

Silence. I arch a single eyebrow. Jaden tries again.

"'Do you have a map? Because I keep getting lost in your eyes-"

"Jaden," I interrupt, "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm trying to woo you. Hold on, let me try again," He pulls out another piece of paper - how many does he have in there? "'I want to check your shirt label to see if you were made in heaven'...hey, why doesn't your jacket have a label?"

"Get off me, you idiot," I growl, batting his curious hands away from the back of my coat, "This is tailor-made. And why are you trying to woo me?"

"Well you said you liked me liked me, but you still haven't done anything, so I figured I'd take the initiative," Another piece of paper, "'The only thing I want between our relationship is latex'. Hey Chazz, what's latex?"

"Shut up," I answer brusquely, "Where the hell did you get all those godawful puns?"

"The Big Book of Chat-Up Lines," He tells me, and tries again, "'Is you Dad an alien? Because there's nothing else like you in this world'."

"..._What?_"

"'Is it hot in here or is it just you-"

"Jaden, quit it," I snap, "Your terrible chat-up lines clearly aren't working, so just stop. How many more do you have?"

"Well..." He empties his pocket; the floor becomes littered with paper, "I copied all the best ones."

"_Those_ were the best?" I ask incredulously, "Jaden, what possessed you to think those would actually work?"

"I just wanted to try 'em out..." He protests lamely, sweeping up the paper and depositing it in the bin, "I mean, you haven't done anything, so I thought maybe it was up to me to try..."

"And what, precisely, did you hope to achieve?"

"I dunno...I thought we could do romance-y things, like cuddle and stuff. Couples do that, don't they?"

"There's no such word as 'romance-y'. And we're not a couple."

"We're not," He blinks, "Then what are we?"

"I...I'm not sure. But not a couple!" I tell him sharply, "We're just...'friends with benefits', that's all."

"Are you sure?" Confusion is evident in his voice, "I mean, it definitely _seems_ like we're a couple. I mean, we live together-"

"But that's because-"

"And eat together," Jaden continues, ignoring my interruption.

"Well obviously-"

"And sleep together."

"Only in the literal sense-"

"And spend all our time together."

"But-"

"Plus we've argued, made up, destroyed some stuff, shared clothing and fished together," Jaden finishes, listing them all on his fingers, "That's all the qualifications to become a couple. Plus we've done some romance-y stuff as well."

"The term is _romantic_. And we are _not_ a couple," I huff. 'Couple' sounds...awkward, unfitting. Whatever we are, a 'couple' isn't it.

"Ah don't be such a sourpuss, Chazz. C'mon, give me a hug."

"Nothing doing," I grumble, turning my attention back to the magasine. No sooner have I started reading when two curious brown eyes peer at me over the top of the page:

"Aw Chazz, please?"

"I'm not hugging you," I answer briskly, shoving the magasine up higher to block his face from view. He pushes it back down again.

"You look like you need a cuddle."

"I don't care," I pull it back up again.

He pushes the paper back down; "I'm just gonna hug you anyway, you know."

"Jaden, stop bothering me-e!" I yelp as he literally _jumps_ on me, knocking the magasine aside to wrap his arms around me cheerfully, "Slacker, get _off!_"

He just grins; "You like the attention, admit it."

"_No_," I snap, pushing him off onto the other end of the sofa. I look for the magasine, but can't see it, so settle for folding my arms and sulking instead.

"Aw, you're no fun," But his words are laced with laughter. I give my best scowl and turn away - but once my back is turned, I allow a faint smile to take over; try as I might, it's impossible to stay grouchy in his presence.

After a few minutes, I realise the laughter has stopped, and an empty silence has taken over the air. I turn back to see him sat on the sofa; but his eyes are unfocused, as though in deep thought. His brow is slightly furrowed, mouth turned downwards into a vaguely displeased frown.

"Slacker?" I query at the sudden change of mood, "What's wrong?"

"Huh?" He turns his head towards me, still seemingly distant, "Oh nothing, just thinking."

"And I repeat: what's wrong?"

"It's just..." He sighs, "I've been having these weird dreams recently, they're getting kind of...frustrating."

"Oh really?" That catches my attention; I turn to face him completely, "Why?"

"Well, er..." His eyes flick away - only for a second, but still noticeable, "It's - it starts with - I'm somewhere, with...someone. Then, y'know...stuff happens...but just when it gets, well, interesting, it just stops."

"Oh really?" I notice his fidgety demeanor; I think I have an inkling as to what's he's talking about... "And what exactly _happens_ in these dreams?"

"Just...y'know...," He shifts uneasily under my heated gaze, "...Stuff."

"Stuff?" I allow a predatory smirk to come to my face as I lean closer to him, causing him to shrink back, "You'll have to be more specific than that, Jaden. What kind of 'stuff'?"

"Er..." I can practically hear his heartbeat thudding through his chest, fast and panicky, "Just...card games, that sort of thing."

"Oh really?" I don't believe him for a second, "And who do you play 'card games' with?"

A silence. He mumbles something incoherent, twiddling his thumbs nervously.

"What was that?" I move even closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him in waves, "I didn't hear you properly. Say it again."

"IsaidIplaycardgameswithyou," He answers in one breath, his eyes firmly trained on the carpeted floor.

"Oh do you now?" Cue widening of the smirk and half-closed eyelids. Something tells me I should feel guilty, since I'm directly responsible for his troubles, but I'm having far too much fun to care, "Do I make a good opponent?"

"You're - ah!" He lets out a gasp when I nuzzle into his neck. Big reaction for such a small gesture, but I remember how sensitive he is there, "Very good," He finishes his sentence weakly.

"I'm flattered," I purr, feeling him shiver pleasurably at the sound. This is too perfect; Jaden, I have you now... "So what happens during the card game?"

"You..." He doesn't finish, too caught up in harsh, frantic breathing as I press the barest of kisses against his neck.

"Hm? You didn't answer the question," I push him down against the arm of the sofa, pulling back to trail my fingers down his chest, "Did I do this?"

"Yes," He gaps, trying not to tremble, failing.

"What about this?" I drift over to his sides, "Did I do this as well?"

"Yes- aah, Chazz, that tickles!" He protests when I dig my fingers in. The temptation to continue is great, but I decide to resist and be merciful. I drift over to his stomach, tracing light circles through the thin cotton of his shirt.

"And what about here? Did I do this?"

"Ah...yes..."

"And..." My fingers stop at the bottom of his stomach, Suddenly the atmosphere is deadly serious; "Did I do...that...?"

He's quiet for a while, "...Yes," He says eventually.

The silence is thick enough to cut with a knife. I stare down at the disheveled and flustered Jaden, wondering what I should do next. I mean, I know what I _want_ to do...but is it right? Especially here, on a sofa, in someone's living-room...

"Jaden," My hushed words pierce the mute air, "How does the card game end? Who wins?"

"...No-one," He replies, shaking his head, "It always stops before it can finish properly."

"I see," I frown crosses my brow. I can't believe I'm going to ask this... "Do you want to finish the game...upstairs?"

His eyes widen, staring up at me in wonder. Slowly, and not without hesitation, he nods.

"Come on then," I climb off the sofa, and hold my hand out for him to follow.

* * *

"Hey Chazz, can I be on top?" 

"No," I murmur, smoothing out the bedsheets - because if you're going to do it, you at least want it to be on a tidy bed.

"Aw, come on. Why not?"

"_The Chazz_ does not play uke," I growl, throwing the pillows into place, "Alright, lie down."

"Can't you give it a go? You might enjoy it."

"I doubt that," Fleeting memories of blue eyes and cold hands, an icy touch drifting up my inner thigh. Shaking my head, I banish them to the back of my mind, concentrating on the figure before me. Warm, soft, innocent - nothing like Dr Adams...

"But I wanna see what being on top is like! Can't I try it just once, Chazz?"

"No."

"Just this one time?"

"No."

"Just in and out?"

"_No_."

"Just-"

"Jaden, I am not being underneath," I snarl, "Now are you going to lie still or are you going to ask stupid questions all day?"

"Sorry Chazz..." He meekly stays still for me, allowing me to unbutton his shirt and slip off his trousers. He tries to reach out for me, but I push his hand away firmly with a glare and remove my outfit myself; one by one the articles of clothing are thrown to the floor.

Now let's see...much as I hate to do it, I'm going to have to rely on my past experience for knowledge on how to do this. Okay, mental checklist - state of arousal: check. Preferably willing uke: check. Is the uke comfortable? Aroused? Clean? Yes, definitely (thanks to _The Chazz_, heh heh) and...oh, wait.

"Are you clean, slacker?" I ask sharply.

"Clean?" He blinks, "I had a shower earlier if that's what you mean..."

"Yeah, but are you clean, you know, 'down there'..." Argh, I'm blushing. Stop blushing! Semes do not blush!

Again, he looks nonplussed, "I think so...I gave it a good scrub anyway."

"It'll have to do," Bah, arousal fading, needpassionneedpassionneedpassion...I swoop down and kiss him fiercely, running my hands everywhere I can reach. He melts into my touch, a slight whining noise in the back of his throat telling me to get on with it. Happy to comply, I push his legs apart, positioning myself at his entrance and-

"_OWW_" He yelps when I push in, receiving a surprising amount of friction, "Chazz, that _hurts!_"

"Oh stop being such a wuss," I roll my eyes, "I'm barely inside you."

"But it really really really really really really _hurts!_" He whimpers pitifully, "Aren't you, y'know, supposed to use some sort of lubricant for these things?"

"You're just being pathetic, now stop complaining and take it like a man," I push in a little deeper.

"But Chazz - ow! - I really think that - _owch!_ - you're meant to prepare me - owowow! - in some way," He gasps, face flushed and screwed up with pain. Honestly, what's he looking like that for? It can't hurt _that_ much...I mean, I was taken twice and I was fine - a little sore, but nothing a few painkillers wouldn't fix. Plus I was unprepared the second time - although mind you, I wasn't a virgin by that point...

Regardless, I scowl down at him; it's not _that_ bad, he's probably just making it up, "I thought pain was supposed to be a turn-on for a lot of people?" I point out.

"Not this much...ow..." He winces weakly, "It hurts too much Chazz, take it out. Please."

He's utterly pathetic and I should keep going just to teach him a lesson in endurance...but there's something in his last word that gets to me, the pleading in his tone. I see unshed tears brimming in his eyes and wonder if maybe I really _am_ causing him that much pain.

"Wimp," I mutter, pulling out of him as carefully as possible. I lay beside him on the bed, arms crossed and glaring up at the ceiling.

"...Sorry Chazz," Jaden says sheepishly after a while.

"Just shut up," I snap fiercely. I'm more angry at myself, really...his first time and I made a royal mess of it. But I guess sex isn't as perfect as it seems in all those romance novels.

...Not that I've actually read any, mind you. Of course not.

"It doesn't matter," Jaden reassures me, "We just need to prepare a bit more in the future. I'm sure it'll be better next time."

"You actually _want_ there to be a next time?" I stare at him incredulously; who would want to try again after that lousy attempt? Jaden has that clueless expression on his face again...

"Well of course I do. I still like you like you, remember?" Suddenly his eyes light up as though somebody switched on a lightbulb inside his head, "Hey, I've got a great idea! We can find out how to do it properly on the internet!"

"On the - what?" I raise an eyebrow as Jaden jumps off the bed, not without a noticeable wince, and grabs a dressing gown before running out of the door and down the stairs in noisy, thumping footsteps.

"Slacker, wait! Come back here!" I run to follow him, remember I'm naked, look for the dressing gown, remember that stupid slacker took it, then hurriedly snatch a shirt and boxers from the piles of clothing on the floor. Struggling to put on the boxers whilst hopping towards the stairs, I successfully bruise my shoulder against the wall and fall over ungracefully before getting to my feet with a huff and storming down the stairs with as much dignity as I can muster.

"Hey Chazz! Come look at all these sites!" Jaden calls, and I proceed to the living-room to see him eagerly at the computer, already logged on and accessing the internet, "Look how many there are! I just typed 'sex' into Noogle, and all these millions of sites came up - we're bound to find something about the right way to do it."

"Jaden, I don't think this is such a good idea," I eye the computer warily; oh we'll learn something alright, there's no doubt about that, "Come on, we can go look it up in a book or something."

Jaden makes a face, "Books are boring. Besides, this won't take long, look," He clicks on a link, bringing up a raunchy website covered in explicit pictures, "Ah."

I _knew_ this would happen...I let out an exasperated sigh; "That's a het website, slacker, it doesn't apply to us. Just click the back button-" I stop as one of the pictures comes into view. We both stare at it wide-eyes and slack-jawed for about three minutes before I managed to speak:

"Is that a..._cucumber?_"

"...We'd better look elsewhere," Jaden mutters, clicking the back button. He tries clicking on a few other sites, all of which are of a similar nature, "Geez, I don't think _any_ of these can help us..."

"We need to be more specific, that's all," I lean over him to type in a new search: 'how to have sex'. Although maybe I should add the word 'gay'...are we gay? I suppose we _must_ be, both being male and all...still, it seems a bit weird to say it. I don't _feel_ very gay.

With a bit of reluctance, I add the word; weird or not, there's no getting away from the fact that I just had sex with another guy. Sort of. Kind of a botched attempt, but it still counts. I click the search button, and a list of decidedly more useful websites comes up. One link brings up a conveniently bulleted list:

"Number one, make sure your partner is comfortable and relaxed - well we already did that," Jaden reads aloud, "Number two, use plenty of- see I _told_ you we were supposed to use lubricant!"

"Whatever," I say dismissively, although my eyes keenly scan the list of Things To Use As Lubricant. I'm sure at least a few of those will be in Jaden's bathroom...maybe I'll check later.

"Number three, make sure your partner is - stretched? As in those elastic toy things?" Jaden frowns, "Oh wait, there's a description below- oh," His eyes widen at the words.

"You mean..." I read and re-read the words, sincerely hoping for something different to appear, but no such luck, "I have to stick my _hand_ in there?!"

"You already stuck your wang in there, Chazz," Jaden points out mildly.

"That's - that's different!" I feel myself blush brilliant red at the nonchalant phrasing...and use of the word 'wang'. Really, wang? Who thought that one up? Come to think of it, who makes up all these ridiculous words anyway?

"It says here that all we need to do is have plenty of patience and control and we should be okay," Jaden summarises, reaching the bottom of the page, "Alright! You want to give it another go?"

"I think I've just been put off sex for life," I mumble, staring at my hand. My hand - in his - oh God, the _germs!_ "Maybe another time."

"Okay...I guess we shouldn't rush things anyway," Jaden agrees, logging off the computer, "Still, at least we know what to do now."

"Just don't expect me to do it any time soon," I mutter subconsciously wiping my hands on my shirt. Germsgerms_germs_...I really do _not_ want to put my hand anywhere near that region. Maybe I should just let Jaden be on top, just let him take care of all the unhygienic details.

But then, I can't be on the bottom either - the mere concept brings up bad memories, lying helplessly underneath a second body as it writhes and grunts and thrusts _into_ me...I don't want anything else inside my body ever again, even if it's Jaden. I know he'd never hurt me or force me, but...no, I just can't. Despite the downsides to the role - namely the unpleasant preparation - I'll have to be on top, and Jaden will have to put up with being an uke.

Which he will, of course, since he'll do just about anything for me. I mean, he's already given me his home, his possessions, even his innocence - and I return I've given him...given him...

Wait a moment.

Just what the hell _have_ I given him?

_

* * *

_

The wind seems even more ferocious than usual, howling like hungry wolves under the pale, cloud-strewn sky. The cold still reaches me through my coat no matter how snugly it's fastened, making me shiver violently; I shouldn't be out here, I know, but...

Jaden's still inside, warming up cocoa for us both - he doesn't know I'm out here, at least not yet. I don't want to worry him, but...I need to be out here, alone, if only for a little while. Inside the warm, comfortable atmosphere of the house, it's all too easy to forget life's troubles and simply be content - but I _can't_ be content. I need to think things through, and only the unrelenting cold can clear my head.

I need to think...about Jaden.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about it over these past few hours, just how our relationship works. Jaden gives me a home, a sanctuary from life's troubles. He gives me clothes to wear and food to eat, a bathroom to use and a bed to sleep in. He gives me my deck back after I thought I'd lost it, or at least all the cards he could find, and then he gives me an opponent to play against.

When I wake up from yet another nightmare he gives me his comfort; when I go and freakin' _destroy_ half his stuff, he gives me his time, patience, effort and energy. He gives me his smile when I'm fearful, his embrace when I need it; he gives me his murmured words to soothe the soul, or his lighthearted laugh to alleviate my troubles. He gives me his warmth, not just literally in our shared bed, but in everything he does.

He gives me his body - his damn _virginity_ - and lets me be on top, even when he wanted otherwise. He gives me his pleasured moans, his throaty purrs and needy whines; his writhing form and his hands that clutch at me in the heat of passion. He gives me his trust and affection, his complete co-operation, control, confidence.

He gives me...everything.

But what do _I_ give _him?_

Nothing. Nothing except my worries and troubles, my doubts and fears - and he shoulders them all without a moment's hesitation. I take his food and clothes and house, I take his warmth and happiness and affection, I take his innocence bit by bit, even without his knowledge. He gives and gives, and I take and take - but what do I give in return?

I snap at him irritably and call him names. I wake him up in the middle of the night with my screaming. I ruin all his clocks in a moment of madness. I worry him with my behaviour, my nightmares, my filthy trousers. I'm worrying him even now just by being out here - yes, there he is, flinging the door open and pulling on a coat as he runs over to me.

"Chazz!" He calls, almost losing his footing over the slippery stones, "Chazz, what are you _doing_ out here?"

Now look, he's giving me his concern; he doesn't need to be out here, he could be inside with hot cocoa, curled up in front of the fire. But instead he's out here in the freezing cold, running across the stony beach towards me.

"Chazz," He gasps when he reaches me, doubling over for air; he's given me his breath, "Why are you all the way out here? I thought we were gonna have cocoa together."

"I needed to think," I reply quietly, gazing over at him with a frown. He's always shown me affection...maybe I should return the favour? Of course, I'm not exactly sure _how_, but it wouldn't hurt to try...

"All the way out here? I'm surprised you can think at all with this cold," He shivers, "Geez, it's even colder than usual to-daaay?" He stops as I fling my arms around him, squeezing tightly. We stand awkwardly for a minute or so before I let go and step back.

"Ch-Chazz?" He frowns, "What the heck was that?"

"It was - you know - a hug," I say, feeling uncomfortable under his bewildered stare, "Wasn't it obvious?"

He blinks confusedly, "_That_ was a hug?"

"Well yeah," His shock makes me irritable; before I can help myself, I snap harshly: "Look, I don't really know how to hug someone, okay? I didn't exactly grow up in what you'd call a loving family."

"Don't know how to hug someone...?" He trails off before a faint smile comes to his lips, "Really, Chazz...come here, let me show you how it's done," He wraps his arms around my torso, bringing himself closer to me in a single, natural movement - not the stiff, awkward failure of a hug I just attempted. I can feel his warmth seemingly soak into me, somehow blocking out the surrounding cold, protecting me from harm.

But it's not right...I feel like a thief, stealing all the heat away for my own cold, deadened body. The guilt overpowers me, causing my head to spin and my legs to tremble, threatening to collapse. I bring two flat palms up against his chest and, in one sudden motion, push Jaden away.

"Chazz?" He says, surprised, "What's wrong?"

I can only manage one word: "Why?"

He frowns; "Why what?"

"Why do you put up with me?" I demand, tone suddenly fierce, "I've never done anything for you, never even been _nice_ to you, yet you welcome me into your life without a second thought. You give me everything and accept nothing in return - why?"

"Well-" He stops himself suddenly, trying to think of how to word it, "Because you didn't have anything; no home, no food, not even any clean clothes-"

"Neither do others!" I interrupt him, "There are hundreds - no, _thousands_ - of others in the same situation in Domino city alone, but you wouldn't take them in! I mean, would you invite a homeless guy, a drug addict or a prostitute into your home and give them everything you had?"

"Well, no, probably not-"

"So why me?" I ask again, "Why did you take me in? Why not throw me back out onto the streets?"

"I couldn't do that! I wanted to help you-"

"So is that all I am? A charity case?"

"_No!_ Chazz, you're not - you've never been-" He takes a calming breath, "Chazz, you're my friend, and friends help each other out-"

"But I don't! I don't help you!" The wind picks up, blowing angrily around us like a frustrated scream; beneath the small, cliff, the turbulent ocean thrashes dangerously back and forth, "I don't _do_ anything, I don't _give_ anything, I'm nothing but a burden-"

"That's not true!"

"What? What do I give you?" I shout over the chaotic environment, "Pain, worry, trouble, misery - Jaden, _why_ do you put up with me? Don't you know how much easier your life would be if I weren't in it?"

"But I don't _want_ a life without you!"

"That's because you're an idiot!" The tide swells and breaks, crashing against the cliff with a lion's roar, "You're a stupid, naive, too-caring moron who doesn't understand what he's gotten himself into! Do you even know how much you're risking just keeping me here?!"

"It doesn't matter! Chazz-"

"Nothing matters to you, nothing's ever too much trouble - damnit Jaden, are you blind? Can't you see what's right in front of your eyes?" Liquid trickles down my face, only to be swept away by the gale, "Why would you want me? I'm tainted! Filthy! Unclean!"

"What? I don't understand-"

"I'm not pure anymore, you idiot! hands have roamed over me, snaking, caressing, going where they shouldn't have..." The memories resurface; on the padded floor of an asylum cell, up against a scratchy brick wall - bastardisations of love, a mockery of everything sex should be, "I'm corrupted...and I'm only going to corrupt you as well...why can't you understand that? Why?"

"Corrupt me? Chazz, what are you talking about?"

"The dreams," My voice lowers to a hollow whisper, "It's my fault, all mine. I'm the one causing them, every night, touching you. I don't want to but I can't stop...I'm dirtying you even when I try to resist it..."

"You? You're..." He trails off. I expect him to be angry, but he just looks sad, sympathetic, "It's alright Chazz, I understand," Patient, calm forgiving...

It makes my blood boil.

"No you _don't!_" I scream, my voice frightening loud, enough to make him step back in shock, "You don't understand a thing about me! Damnit, why are you so forgiving?! Are you incapable of anything else?! Why can't you just get _angry _for once?!"

"Chazz, just calm down-"

"You're such a - fucking - _moron!_" I shout, my throat sore from the volume, "How do you stay so calm?! Aren't you going to shout at me - or threaten me - or hit me - _something?!_"

"Chazz...?" There's a sense of realisation in his eyes, and I _know_ I've said too much, but I can't stop now, "Chazz, you're going grey - maybe you should come inside-"

"Stop it! Stop looking after me!" I snarl; the words suddenly sways, vision slipping in and out of focus, "You do it all the time, making sure I'm okay, taking care if me even more than yourself..." My legs buckle and hit the floor, but I barely feel the impact, only numbness.

"Chazz!" He runs over immediately, "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"I hate you..." I whisper, slumping into his embrace; I feel his hands rub my back soothingly, running through my strands of hair, "I hate you so much...idiot...hate you..."

"I'll take you back inside," Jaden tells me, ignoring my weak mumbling, "You could do with some sleep...and I'll bring you up some hot orange, yeah? It worked pretty well last time."

"Hate you..." I repeat feverishly, the world becoming black as my eyelids grow too heavy to stay open; dimly, I feel him pick me up and start his journey back to the house, "I hate you... hate you...don't...hate you..."

* * *

Hm...this chapter is irritating - I'm not satisfied with it, somehow, but I can't really think how to improve it (shrugs) I suppose I'll just have to make the next chapter extra-special to make up for it. Buty anyway...(dramatic voice) Will Jaden ever find out what happened to Chazz at Pandora? (although I think he's harboured a pretty good guess by now) Will Chazz ever get over his mental instability? And will the two of them _ever_ get it on? Find out...next chapter! 


	14. Elysium

Given the choppiness of last chapter, I aim to make this one flow as smoothly as possible - I can only hope I've been successful. I'm going to give this one everything I've got!

**Warnings:** angst, then fluff, then sex ;) Which is a good combination, no? There's quite a bit of swearing from Chazz; not so much actual swearwords but 'god's and 'Christ's, that kind of thing - I know some people find that offensive, so I thought I'd warn you.

**Katastrophic Melt Down:** Yeah, you'd think he'd have learned his lesson by now, huh?

**Massacre Maker: **(hands you a tissue) Here you go, glad you liked it..._did_ you like it?

**Natasuki:** No that wasn't the best chat-up line, actually that was one of the _worst_...I deliberately looked up the worst chat-up lines in existence for Jaden to use - but if you used it in real life, you'd probably get the mother of all slaps across your face. I just thought the chapter was a bit choppy...hopefully this one will make up for it.

**Garnet-Crystals:** Realist, pessimist...same thing, really. Yeah, cheesy chat-up lines are definitely something Jaden would do, given his love for corny catchphrases. As for Chazz, I plan to make this one a (moderately) peaceful chapter, since the poor dear deserves a break from going la-la.

**sasukemyemo394:** You've no idea how long I wait to use that cucumber line...glad you liked it!

**Coco Gash Jirachi:** I must say, whilst your reviews make no sense whatsoever, they're highly amusing. (Holds out hands) Pumpkin pie, please.

**Mist of a Flame:** Sen...sei? (laughs) I hardly think I'm a sensei yet, there are other writers here who are far better than me. But I'm happy you liked everything, since I put so much work into the story; I seem to be pretty good at setting the mood, so to speak.

**shindou-colgan:** He makes you laugh? O.o Oh dear, that wasn't quite what I was going for...I don't think he will be making a return, no - not unless you count Chazz's hallucinations and dreams, of course. And speaking of Chazz...well, you'll just have to wait and see what happens to him.

**Sandaa:** Chat-up lines and internet porn, oh my! I think that was about the most in-character Jaden's ever going to be in this story...he's a nice boy, but he's not exactly knowledgeable at the finer points of seduction.

**Sami-chan666:** Hooray, I'm a goddess! (checks 'become goddess' off to-do list) I'm glad to have inspired you, hope to check out that story soon!

I don't own yugioh GX, nor do I own anything particularly witty to say at this moment.

* * *

Delirium, part fourteen (Elysium) 

My eyes open slowly, revealing the world to me in a gradual motion. The light is pleasant, a dim orange glow that tells of the late afternoon sun. Although a frosty wind blows outside the window, in here I'm surrounded by warmth, the spicy-scented sheets enveloping me in softness. I almost fall right back asleep, but I become aware of fingers idly playing in my hair, just gently weaving through the strands.

Without moving too much, I cast my gaze over to the owner of those fingers: Jaden, who stares out of the window at the lowering sun without really seeing anything. The hands that toys with my hair is gentle, but a troubled frown mars his features; there's really only one subject that can make him look that sombre.

It's painful to know I'm worrying him. But it's warming too, in its own guilty way, to know that someone likes me enough to be concerned. And he _does_ like me; he must do to look after me like this, although I still don't understand why. I mean, nobody else would put up with me - hell, even _I_ wouldn't put up with me - and yet he does. Despite the screaming and the insults and the breakdowns, he's still here. Still sat here next to me, running his hands through my hair absentmindedly, looking after me without even having to think about it.

"...You really do care, don't you?" I say softly, ending the silence.

"Chazz?" He turns way from the window, the look of concern on his face replaced by confusion, "I didn't realise you'd woken up. How do you feel?"

"I'm...okay, I guess."

"That's good to hear," He nods with a wan smile, "You've been asleep for a while, your hot orange went cold - but I could heat it up for you if you'd like..." He trails off, the smile fading. There's a silence until: "Chazz?"

"Yeah?"

"What happened to you before you came here?"

The room seems to go cold; I wrench myself from his grasp, bringing my knees defensively close to my chest, "I don't want to talk about it," I say.

"Please Chazz, I just want to help," He begs, reaching out towards me again, "I already know something bad happened, if you'll just tell me you'd feel better..."

"No I wouldn't. Go away," I shuffle out of his reach, and when he persists I bat his hand away, "Stop it! Get lost, slacker!"

"I won't hate you for it," He insists pleadingly, "Is that what you think? That I'd hate you and turn away? I wouldn't, not ever."

"You would...you don't understand..." I push his hand away again, but with less force this time, my protests weakening.

"I _want_ to understand. Tell me, Chazz," He grasps my hands, fingers interlocking with my own, "Your brothers hit you when you were back home, right? Before you came to Duel Academy?"

"That much was obvious. Except to the people with the power to put a stop to it, apparently," I mutter.

"That's why you attacked them, why you got sent to Pandora," His words ring a certain truth in my ears. He's right - if Jagger and Slade hadn't hurt me, I wouldn't have retaliated, so I wouldn't have been arrested and sent to Pandora. Then I wouldn't have gotten addicted to drugs, and I wouldn't have made the exchange with Adams - in fact, I'd have never met him in the first place.

I wouldn't have run away from Pandora and ended up in Roulette Street...so I wouldn't have had to come here afterwards...and I wouldn't have burdened Jaden. Duel Academy wouldn't have been cancelled until New Year, so I'd be taking lessons and sneering at one Jaden Yuki, not worrying about how I'm going to lose him in less than a fortnight. Everything - everything goes back to my brothers, what they did, what they caused. This is entirely their fault!

"Aha, so it's true," Jaden's voice brings me back to the present, "You went off into another inner-monologue when I mentioned Pandora. Something happened there, didn't it?"

"Of course not," I say stiffly, and pull my fingers away from his clutch.

"Chazz, _please_," He puts his hands either side of my face, looking me straight in the eye, "Did something bad happen at Pandora? Tell me that at least, yes or no."

I want to lie - I really, really want to lie. But it's impossible to with him staring into my eyes so intensely; "...Yes," I admit at last.

"And you've mentioned that guy before, Dr Adams," I tense at the name, which he notices, "Was it something to do with him?"

"Yes," I can't tell him, I can't tell him...damnit, why does me have to be so close? It's easier to lie to someone when they're not inches away from you and holding your face so gently...

"Can you tell me what he did?"

"We made...an exchange," _Don't tell him!_

"An exchange of what?"

"Drugs," I can't tell him, he'll hate me, he'll hate me... "I had hallucinations and he had a drug that made them go away...but after a while he stopped giving them to me, unless I could offer him something in return. So I gave him..."

"Go on," Jaden urges softly, "You gave him...?"

"Me," And there, it's out, the awful truth. And then all the fibres in my body sing: _He knows, he knows, and now he'll hate you. He'll throw you aside like a broken toy and never look at you again_.

"You?" He doesn't understand at first, but the realisation slowly comes to him, "Chazz - you said once - you were corrupted - did you mean...?"

"Yes," I answer dully, waiting for him to push me away. My throat constricts and my eyes burn; I'm crying. There's no use in pretending or denial anymore - I'm crying, for real, because I know he hates me for what I did, for what I've become.

"You gave him...yourself," Jaden repeats, as though he still can't quite believe it; his eyes are filled with shock, sadness and pain, "Chazz...I'm so sorry."

"Sorry?" I frown; why is he apologising? Isn't he angry, or disgusted? "Why are you saying sorry?"

"All this time...it seems so obvious now, but I never even realised..." He shakes his head sadly, "He was the one in charge of you, right? I should've figured out it was him who hurt you...and the way you tensed up whenever he or Pandora was mentioned...but I didn't know..."

"So you mean..." Something stirs inside me, a swell of hope like a balloon inside my chest, "You don't hate me?"

"Hate you?" He frowns, "Chazz, why would I hate you for something that wasn't your fault?"

"But...it _was_ my fault. Jaden, I said yes. I agreed to the exchange."

"But why did you agree in the first place?"

"Well...for the drugs. But mostly for freedom from the straightjacket and the padded cell, so I could go back to my old room."

"Exactly!" Jaden exclaims, "Chazz, I'm no detective, but...doesn't this all seem a bit set up to you? Getting you addicted to drugs, having you thrown inside a prison cell, restrained and all by yourself..." He scratches his head, "It sounds to me as though he had everything planned from the start so that you wouldn't be _able_ to say no. I mean, I don't think I could've refused if I was in that situation, which would be exactly what he wanted."

"But - it wasn't - no," I frown, "I traded my body for goods. That's prostitution if nothing else."

"Erm, can't say I really know much about the subject, but...aren't prostitutes usually...y'know...willing?" He tilts his head to the side, "It isn't really a 'trade' when you have no other choice."

"He did give me a choice. If I'd refused the drug he wouldn't have done anything."

"I think he would've left you in there until you went insane," Jaden tells me quietly, "Chazz, even I know that you're not meant to come off a drug that strong straight away. There was no way you could've refused, it would've ruined you - it _did_ ruin you, if the state I found you in is anything to go by. Maybe you didn't realise it but...you were a wreck when you first came here. You're better now, but you've almost gone over the edge a few times because you haven't had the drug to help you."

"But..." My protest is getting weaker; I'm not even sure why I'm protesting in the first place, "I said yes..."

"Chazz, don't you see?" He wipes a tear away with his thumb, "There wasn't any other answer - he just made you think you had a choice so you'd blame yourself. But you know and _I_ know that you didn't want to, because otherwise it wouldn't have hurt you this badly," A part of me protests timidly, but Christ...he's _right_. Adams probably had this planned from the beginning, perfect manipulation to make me believe I could've said no when I damn well couldn't have. It's so brilliantly simple even _Jaden_ could see it, and yet I never even realised...

"So you see, it wasn't your fault after all," Jaden says, "How many times did he make you...?"

"...Twice. The first was in the padded cell, the second week later in his office," I tell him, feeling brave enough to continue, "He threatened to put me back in the padded cell if I didn't co-operate...I told him I was still sore, so he made me...made me..."

"It's alright, you can tell me," He reassures me, stroking my hair tenderly "I won't be disgusted, I promise."

"He made me give him oral," I choke at the memory, "I remember throwing up afterwards, I was in such a mess...but he still wanted a third exchange. That's when I ran away."

"And came straight here?" He frowns, "No wait, you can't have done...you looked as though you'd been sleeping rough, and your trousers..."

"I went to the streets of Domino," I confess, almost able to feel wet blood and fluids running down my inner thigh again, "Somebody mistook me for a prostitute...I didn't have any energy left, so I couldn't fight him off..."

"So it happened again."

"I accepted money afterwards."

"Does that really change anything?"

"Not really...I should've realised I'd wandered into the red light district," My eyes sting with fresh tears," Jaden, why - _why?_ Why did this have to happen to me? Why not some other person you'd hear about on the news? What did I do to deserve this?"

"Shh now, it's okay, come here," Jaden speaks soothingly, wrapping his arms around me and drawing me close, "Everything's going to be alright from now on, I promise. I won't let anything bad ever happen to you again."

"You're going away in less than two weeks," I cry into his shoulder, tightening my grip around him, "What will I do when you're gone? Where am I going to go?"

"It's alright, don't worry," He whispers, rubbing my back comfortingly, "You can stay here - the house, it's yours. I'll visit you every holiday and I'll look for a way to get you back on the island. And when I graduate I'll come back and we can live together happily ever after, and we'll travel the world participating in Duel tournaments, and then maybe we'll settle down and grow old together on a little farm with a white picket fence and some chickens."

"You make it sound so easy," I hiccup, laughing as well as crying. And maybe, for just a second, I believe it can be done, and it _will_ happen just as it's been planned with no difficulties or obstacles.

"It _is_ easy. It can be done, Chazz, I know it can."

"How do I know you won't have feelings for anyone else?" A sudden spike of jealousy flares up inside me, "What about Alexis? How do I know you won't fall in love with her and forget about me?"

"Alexis?" he blinks, "But I don't...I've never."

"What?" I stare at him, "You mean to tell me she dotes on you night and day and you don't even like her?"

"Well I _like_ her, but only as a friend," He points out , frowning, "She dotes on me? I never even noticed."

"Idiot," I give him a light swat on the head, my jealousy subsided, "Anyone with eyes could see how much she fancies you."

"I guess I don't have eyes then," He flashes that trademark grin, "Or maybe all I can see is you."

"Jaden, that's the cheesiest thing I've ever heard."

"You know you love it really."

"Clichés _are_ overused for a reason," I say thoughtfully, and he responds with a golden laugh, like a summer breeze. It's then I realise what's happened - we've completely moved off the subject of Pandora, Adams and Roulette Street, left it all behind us. I feel lighter somehow, as though weight has been lifted from my shoulders and...lord, I think I might actually be _happy_. For the first time in my life since Mama was still alive, I'm really, truly happy.

And suddenly...it happens. I see. I _see_. I see the way the darkening orange sunlight weaves through his hair and makes his skin glow like some sort of ethereal being. I see the way his lips curve upwards when he smiles and part just slightly to show a glimpse of white teeth. I see the way his body shakes with laughter, causing his colourful nightshirt to slip, revealing one bare shoulder that shimmers in the sun. It's like I've only just looked at him - really _looked_ at him - for the first time, like I've only just realised...

And suddenly he's on his back with yelp, and I'm on top of him kissing everywhere I can reach, hands roaming possessively over the tanned skin. He's mine damnit, no-one else can have him...not even Alexis, she can find someone else, this one is _mine_...

"Chazz?" Jaden asks, pleased but confused at my actions, "What are you doing?"

"Don't know...just need..." I launch a passionate frenzy of kisses on his neck, causing him to gasp and arch sharply upwards against my body- _damn_ that feels good, I'll have to do that again at some point...

"Chazz...Chazz, wait," His hands grasp around my shoulders, forcing me to stop, "Are you sure you want to do this? You know, after..."

"I don't care; it's all in the past now," I answer, voice raspy and breathless. My brothers, Adams, the man in the alley - it doesn't matter _none_ of it matter except here, this place and this moment in time. Just him and me and...us.

"You're so brave, Chazz," He murmurs, wrapping his arms around me - and I want to tell him that I'm not, that I only survived through it all because of his unconditional support. But I can't find the words to say it, so I show it instead, ravishing his collarbone with everything I have. The low purr and fingers reaching up to tangle through my hair tell me I've been successful.

And from there it's sighs, moans and gasps as I experiment with every possible technique, judging what he likes the most. Every square inch of his skin is utterly analysed with fingers and lips and tongue and teeth and I swear to _God_ I'm going to give him the best experience of his life if it kills me. Which it currently is, because I'm so hard it hurts, and I think my entire groin might just drop off at any minute. But I have to make this _last_, damnit, and Christ this is pure agony but I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world.

"Ch - Cha - ah! - Chazz," Jaden gasps, writhing and squirming in ecstasy, "You're - hah - you're really going for it, aren't you?"

"Can't speak, too busy," I bring him up to a sitting position so I can run my hands down his spine; it elicits a sensuous shiver that makes me feel as though I'm dying an agonising death and entering heaven at the same time. Holy fuck, what's happening to me? I don't know whether to cry or laugh or scream or faint...

"Cha - _ah!_" Jaden throws his head back in unbridled pleasure when I trace his inner thigh, gripping at my shoulders in desperation, "We need to...slow down...I'm think I'm about to die from...pleasure overload..."

"Christ Jaden, I couldn't slow down even if I wanted to," I groan back, sending us both toppling back onto the bedsheets with our limbs entwined around each other, "We need to finish up...go on then, get it in."

He pauses, staring at me with wide eyes; "You mean...you'll let me...?"

"...Yes," I glance up at him sternly, "Just this one time, mind! Make the most of it, because I'm never _ever_ letting you go on top again."

"Thank you," He says sincerely, since now he knows the reason why. He reaches for a conveniently placed bottle of lavender oil on the bedside table; I raise an eyebrow in question, "I, er, put it there earlier. Figured it might come in useful if we were to...you know..."

"Slacker, hurry up before I explode over here...or change my mind."

"Yessir," He squeezes a generous amount onto his hand and reaches down towards me; I tense up, expecting cold fingers, but instead it's warm and gentle and so very, very good. A numb, dizzying heat spreads through my entire body, making my limbs tingle and my cheeks flush pink.

"Is it okay?" He whispers, adding another finger oh so carefully and just slightly curling them inside my body; he's nudging against...well against _something_, and I'm not exactly sure what it is but it feels good.

"Weird but...nice. Can't really describe it," And now whatever he's touching doesn't just feel good, it feels _great_ and it seems to be slowly building up... "Ngh Jaden, quit it, it's hard enough holding on as it is."

"But I want to make you feel good," He leans over and misses my cheek chastely, but somehow the innocence of it all fuels my passion. He's still nudging that thing, and now one hand is resting lightly on my hip, and there's heated flesh brushing against my inner thigh, and fucking _lord_ I'm going to die if he doesn't get on with it!

"Stop teasing me, damnit!" I growl, thrashing about the bed in frustration. He obediently removes his fingers and reaches for the lavender bottle again, filling the air with sweet perfume as he prepares himself. It's hot, so unbearingly hot, and I know I must look exactly the same as Jaden - skin glistening and flushed with passion, hair tousled and damp with perspiration. Goddamnit he looks good like that, and it only adds to my pleasure. Christ I can't hold on any longer, I can't, I can't...

"Ah..." He gives a breathy moan that makes me tremble. He leans over me, the sensation of skin against skin sending electricity through my veins and driving me wild with desire, "Oh geez, I don't think I'm gonna make it..."

"Keep going, keep going," I say, or _think_ I say; I can't be sure, it's impossible to hear my own words over the shrill hum occupying my head. I can feel his heartbeat through his skin, not just at his chest but every part of him, as fast and frenzied as my own- ohfuckI'mgoingtoclimax!

"Ch-" It just touches my entrance, and suddenly everything is a rush of pure bliss and white spots before my eyes; and somewhere in the distance, I can hear Jaden finish as well with the rest of my name on his lips. I feel his body above mine wobble unsteadily before giving in at last, collapsing on top of my own with a heavy thud.

And then nothing.

I open my eyes blearily, although I can't remember when I closed them, and wait for the world to come into focus as I listen to the sound of our laboured breath fill the air. And when I finally regain my eyesight, the first thing I see is...

His hand, tightly interlocked with mine. He must've grasped it automatically when he came.

"Sorry Chazz," I tear my gaze away to see Jaden lying on my chest, his head still face-down and breathing heavily into my skin. He continues in a slightly muffled voice, "I meant to put it in, I really did...I just kinda finished before I could, you know, start."

"It doesn't matter. I think that's about as intense as things are going to get anyway," I wriggle uncomfortably, "Jaden, you're squashing me."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I would move, but I, er, don't think I can..."

"We're probably going to need a long rest after this," I summon the strength to lift my arms and slowly roll him off me; he ends up beside me on the bed with a thump, causing the mattress to bounce just slightly. It's then he gazes up at me, looking exhausted but thoroughly happy.

"Thanks Chazz. That was really just..."

"Better than duelling?" I ask playfully.

"Better than duelling. Although duelling you comes a close second," He adds with a yawn, "Heck, _anything_ with you is good..."

"Well, I am The Chazz," I declare proudly, which he gives a gentle laugh at, "Although you know, we didn't even do anything that sexual, just touching each other and stuff. Just wait until we get onto the kinkier things, _then_ we'll know the meaning of the word intense."

Jaden makes a groaning noise that sounds between anticipation and pain, "S'all good, but not too soon, okay? I don't think I'll be able to walk for the next few days, let alone indulge in certain...activities."

I smirk; "What, not even duelling?"

"Well, there's always spare energy for _that_. Plus, it doesn't involve excess movement...'cept when you pull cards dramatically and cheer for your monsters and stuff..." His tone becomes gradually sleepier, "Geez I'm tired...good night Chazz..." He drifts off into slumber.

"Yeah, whatev..." It's interrupted by a long yawn as I drain the rest of my energy turning over to face Jaden. So close, so warm...utterly sated and serene for the first time I can remember, I let my eyes drift shut and go to sleep, the last dying embers of the setting sun on my face.

* * *

(handing out tissues) Here, don't get noseblood all over my good floor. Okay, so technically it wasn't sex since nothing actually happened...but close enough, right? Anyway, hope you enjoyed and are now currently sat red-faced at the computer; do send me a review, it only takes a minute and I do so love reading them. Until next time - which, judging from my track record, could be quite a while... 


	15. Schism

Okay, so the last chapter wasn't quite as good as I intended it to be...I suppose mainly because Jaden was too OOC, but I kinda needed him to react that way. I've gone back and tried to rephrase what he's saying, so if you could be so kind, please re-read Jaden's reaction and tell me what you think.

**Warnings:** Swearing and...well, I can't really tell you the rest because it'll give the plot way.

**Coco Gash Jirachi:** PUMPKIN PIE! Well _I_ like Bastion's new nickname...you must have some sort of effect on people, Gash, since everyone you meet is going crazy...

**Yami's chan:** Short, but thank you.

**Natasuki:** Yeah, I know about that...but I'm not entirely sure how to go about changing it.

**Garnet-Crystals:** Wherever Jaden is, corniness will surely follow...hm, that comment made me think of sweetcorn (mm, I'm hungry now.)

**Koneko Mikagmi:** Still calling me sensei...well, I'm glad you liked it.

**random reviewer:** My floor! (Mops up frantically with a wad of tissues)

**Katastrophic Melt Down:** Why, you think he wouldn't be calm and understanding? Hm, perhaps you're right, a bit of anger might have helped...but Jaden doesn't really do 'angry', just 'slightly annoyed' ;)

**Shindou-Colgan:** Well, we may see _some_ Dr Adams, but not in person, I think (poor Chazz deserves a break!) Chazz is more or less sane by now, thanks to Jaden, but he's no fully cured - and I doubt he ever will be. Anyway, here's the new chapter, hope you enjoy!

**RyuuKai:** Ah well, he's not _entirely_ better just yet…

**hermione494:** I can only hope that Pandora makes a convincing asylum – that's how I'd picture a mental institution to be anyway, all white and eerily clean…I can't give too much away about the plot, but trust me, you'll find out soon enough.

It's probably a good thing that I don't own Yugioh GX.

* * *

Delirium, part fifteen (Schism) 

_"-And here we see the lioness stalking her prey, a truly magnificent creature-"_

_"-Here at the seraph music festival 3000, and let me tell you the atmosphere is absolutely electric-"_

_"-You just add two teaspoons of sugar to the mixture and drizzle it with oil; stick it in the oven and in less than an hour you'll have the perfect-"_

_"-Ooh you wascaly wabbit!"_

"Jaden, will you please stop changing the channel," I snap, unable to concentrate on sorting my deck over all the noise.

"But there's nothing on!" Jaden whines in protest, "Geez, 900 channels and not one of them watchable...there has to be something on here somewhere..."

_"-When buying a new property, it's important to consider that-"_

_"-In the case of three year-old Charlotte, you _are_ the father!"_

_"-Confirmed by Slade and Jagger Princeton-"_

_-"And on the seventh day the Lord rested-"_

"Wait, what was that?" I ask - did I hear right...?

"This?" Jaden frowns, "Religious TV - but hey, if you wanna watch it..."

"Not that, you idiot! The channel before!" I lean over and seize the remote, changing it back to the news channel. A solemn-faced newsreader appears on-screen, and behind her is a picture of- ohholyfuckingcrap, that's Jagger and Slade...

_"And the search continues for 15 year-old Charles Princeton, who escaped from Pandora Psychiatric Unit a few weeks ago. Charles was being treated at Pandora for what is described as 'severe mental instability' when he escaped and, it is believed, caught a train into a nearby city. The police are still searching for his whereabouts, and Charles' older brothers Slade and Jagger Princeton have recently issued a reward notice for whoever finds and returns him to the police..."_

"So they're still searching for me..." I mutter, lowering my head, "Just great, I won't be able to even go outside without someone recognising me and turning me into the police."

"Don't worry, Chazz," Jaden reassures me softly, "No-one knows you're with me, and the only people who visit are the mailman and the guy who delivers our food. You're safe here."

"But for how much longer?" I demand fiercely. Damnit, why doesn't he understand how _dangerous_ this is?! "Someone's bound to find me eventually, Jaden! Then what? You're housing a known criminal, that's an arrestable offence!"

"You're not a criminal, Chazz! I mean, I know the law says so, but _I_ know you're innocent-" A picture flickers on-screen behind Jaden, and I feel my entire body freeze up; he notices, of course, "Huh? Chazz, what's wrong?"

"He's there..." I whisper slowly. Jaden turns, and his eyes widen at the person being interviewed. He seems more wearied and stressed than before, but there's no mistaking the identity:

_"I cannot stress the importance of finding Charles. He is a highly dangerous individual suffering from severe mental instability; he has already proven himself to be violent even against members of his own family."_

_"But what about the rumours of the Princeton household? Is it true Charles arrived at Pandora with physical injuries?"_

_"This is of course nonsense - there was some bruising, probably self-inflicted. The claims he made were merely delusions caused by insanity and a way to gain attention-"_

"The nerve," I hiss, dropping the remote to clench my trembling fists in anger, "The _nerve_ of him to appear on television and spread utter _lies_-"

_"Charles Princeton is a 15 year-old white male, described as slender and pale-skinned with dark hair and eyes. Members of the public are advised to approach him with caution or call the police, as he is potentially dangerous-"_

"Turn it off," I say suddenly, to Jaden's surprise, "I don't want to hear any more. Turn it off."

"If you say so, Chazz..." He turns the television off as the newsreader goes into depth about contact details. He notices my posture, stiff and awkward, hiding behind a heavy fringe of hair, "Hey...are you alright?"

"I..." My throat forces itself shut, entire body shaking violently. Just when I thought he was gone from my memory he makes another appearance, he comes back to remind me all over again...

"Don't worry," Jaden wraps his arms around me; I allow myself to lean into his shoulder, taking deep, controlled breaths, "He won't find you here, okay? He can't hurt you anymore."

"I know, it's just..."

"Seeing him again after so long, huh?" Jaden finishes for me gently, "But I won't let him take you away...I'll always protect you, I promise."

"I know," I tighten my hold around his waist, immersing myself in his warm body, his spicy smell and rhythmic breathing. Anything to forget those icy cold hands, those haunting blue eyes.

* * *

"Chazz?" 

Stare. Breathe. Was that tablecloth blue before? I don't like the colour, it's too familiar.

"Hey...Chazz? C'mon, say something."

Fried shrimp for dinner. I push it idly around the plate with my chopsticks, watching the shiny trail it leaves behind. This stuff is pretty unhealthy.

"Are you still worried about that news broadcast? You don't need to be - no-one will find you here."

Duel Academy starts in exactly one week. I'm safe here, yes - but only here. Anywhere else and I'll be captured in minutes. I'm as much a prisoner to this place as I was at Pandora.

"Chazz. Chazz? Don't space out on me again. Please?"

One week...

"Chazz?"

One week.

"You're not ill or anything, are you?"

One week!

"Can you hear me?"

"I'm not hungry anymore," I push the half-empty plate away and stand up; Jaden quickly follows me.

"Chazz, wait up. Come on, we can talk about this-"

"I don't want to talk about anything," I cut him off brusquely, striding out into the hallway. He hurries after me, neglecting the two plates of half-eaten fried shrimp on the dining table.

"If we just-" I ignore him and march up the stairs, "Is it because you're anxious? I already told you, I'll protect you."

"You'll be _gone_ in seven days."

"But you can stay here. You won't have to find another place to stay, and you'll be safe-"

"Safe?" I wheel around to face him once I reach the top of the stairs, "Just what is 'safe', Jaden? I'll have to stay within these walls; even if I venture outside someone could see me. I'll be holed up in here wasting my life away and starved for human contact - is that what you would call safe? Protection for the price of freedom?"

He seems taken back, "I-I didn't think-"

"That's right, you didn't. As I recall, you very rarely think your genius plans through," I turn around and storm towards the bedroom, only to have him grasp desperately at my wrist.

"Chazz, wait - come on, it won't be so bad-"

"Easy for you to say, you'll be at Duel Academy."

"I'll write to you every day, I'll phone as often as I can-"

"So is that how I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life? Waiting for a scrap of attention from my owner? I bet you'd like that, huh?"

"_Owner?!_ Where did you get that idea?!"

"On come on; you clothe me, feed me, do everything for me - I'm more like a shiny new toy than a person," I snap bitterly, wrenching my arm out of his hold, "That's all I've ever been to anyone, a pretty doll to be used and thrown aside-"

"Why are you acting like this? It's seeing Dr Adams again, isn't it? He's still affecting you, even now-"

"You just want me for my body," I say accusingly, eliciting a gasp, "That's all it is, isn't it? I'm just another possession to play with until you get bored-"

"No!" He touches my face despite my spiteful efforts to push him away, "Chazz, it's not like that, I - I'm - oh geez, I l-"

The sound of a key in the lock. We both freeze as the front door swings open and two sets of footsteps enter into the hall.

"Jaden?" A soft female voice calls out, "Honey, are you there? We're home!"

Neither of us moves. Neither of us speaks. Then, very slowly, Jaden turns to me with terrified wide brown eyes and mouths out the word:

_Hide_.

I don't reply, just slowly push my back against the door until it opens, slipping inside the bedroom. Jaden turns away and heads back down the stairs, calling out tentatively:

"Mom? Dad?"

His parents...God, we completely forgot about them. Of course they'd come here, it's _their_ house, even if they're hardly around. Christ, I can't hide out here whilst Jaden's away if there are other _people_ living here!

"Oh there you are, Jaden! Sorry for not ringing you beforehand sweetie, but it really was all last-minute - we had to practically wrestle our bosses just to get time off..."

Jaden gives a somewhat forced laugh, "Yeah...ha...why _do_ you want time off?"

"Don't tell me you forgot all about Christmas," A faintly amused male voice, "Normally we wouldn't come home since you'd be in that school thing of yours; but as it's been cancelled, we didn't want you to spend Christmas home alone."

Christmas. They're spending Christmas over here. That means I'll have to stay hidden and- what the fuck am I supposed to do?! I can't stay here, I can't..."

"So you're spending Christmas here?" You can practically here Jaden withering, "That's...yeah...great..."

"It should be nice spending Christmas as a family for once - although we have to be back to work by New Year," There's a pause, presumably where Jaden's Mom notices his less-than-enthusiastic behaviour, "Honey, are you okay? You look a bit paler than usual."

"Probably from being Duel-deprived for so long," His father jokes. I hear a door opening and then: "Jaden, why are there two plates of fried shrimp on the table?" I take in a sharp breath.

"I, er, just got hungry. You know me, one plate just isn't enough," Jaden gives another nervous laugh and I heave a relieved sigh.

"You can't live on fried shrimp all your life, sweetie! Here, I'll cook us a proper meal up, how about that?"

"Yeah, that's great Mom...I'll just be in my room, okay? I have a homework...thing...to do," I hear footsteps thud up to the second floor. The next thing I know, the door flies open and I'm confronted by a pale, shaken Jaden.

"I have to go," I say at once.

"No! Chazz, wait, come on. Chazz. Chazz!" He runs over frantically to block my path to the wardrobe, "Please, let's just sit down and think about this-"

"Think?! About what?! There's no _thinking_ involved, Jaden!" I hiss, "Move out of my way, I'll need to borrow some of your clothes whilst I'm gone."

"You don't have to leave! Please Chazz, they'll be-"

"Keep your voice down! You want them to hear us?!"

He obediently lowers his voice to a quiet but still desperate whisper, "They'll be gone by New Year. You just have to stay hidden, they'll leave in a week-"

"Yes, and so will you," It's then that the realisation truly dawns on me, "Christ, Jaden, I thought I still had a week left with you...now I don't even have _that_ anymore..."

"You do have a week! We can still spend time together, you'll just have to stay in here - I can bring you up meals and anything else you need-"

"_Don't_ even start that illogical brain of yours ticking," I growl, swatting his head none too gently, "Don't you think it'll look suspicious, you bringing extra food to your room and spending all your time upstairs? Your parents will probably think you've taken in some sort of animal as a pet, then they'll come to investigate and they'll find..." I don't finish the sentence, instead shaking my head and opening the wardrobe doors.

"Chazz, wait!" Jaden hastily pushes the doors shut again, "There has to be a way around this. I know you're scared of being found, but if we're careful and quiet enough-"

"No," I cut him off again, "No, we can't. It's just too risky, they're bound to notice something-"

"Trust me, my parents are way too disorganised to realise anything, and so long as we cover our tracks..." His voice is calmer now, less frantic, and I feel myself being persuaded by the words, "All you have to do is wait, Chazz. I know I'll be distracted, but I'll still see you. And I know I'll be leaving after a week, but so will they - and then you'll at least have the house to yourself. You can stay here as long as you need to."

"They could come back at any time-"

"But they won't. They're always on business trips, this house is just a place to call home," He touches my face tenderly, "You'll be safe here, I guarantee it. And I'll be looking for a chance to get you back onto Academy Island whilst I'm gone; I'll find a way, I swear."

There's something so..._sincere_ in that gaze of his; I can't help but allow myself to agree. I'll be safe here...it'll be difficult whilst his parents are home, and even more difficult when he's gone, but I can do it. I _can_ do it.

"So you'll stay?" Jaden says softly, taking his hands away from my face, "You won't run away?"

Slowly, and not without hesitation, I nod. Half of me is terrified, the other half reassured - but I'll be okay. And if I _do_ get caught...hopefully I can persuade them I'm just a friend from school staying over. There's _some_ truth in it anyway.

"Good," He lets out a sigh of relief and steps back, "I don't want you to leave, Chazz...if you leave, I won't be able to protect you from bad things anymore, and I don't want bad things to happen to you. Not after..."

"Jaden!" His Dad's cheerful voice calls from downstairs, "Dinner's ready!"

"I'd better go," Jaden mutters, heading for the door; he pauses half way and turns towards me, "I'll bring you up some leftovers, okay?"

With that, he's gone. I stand numbly in front of the wardrobe for a minute or so before making my way over to the bed. Unsure of what else to do, I slowly sink onto the mattress, hearing the springs creak gently in response.

So now I wait.

It takes exactly 28 seconds before I decide I'm bored. I try pacing around, but I remember the people downstairs and quickly sit back down again. They can't hear me, can they...? Better not risk it...I look around for something to do, but there's nothing; no books, no games, no television, no computer...Christ, what does Jaden _do_ in here? Then again, I'm guessing he doesn't use this room for much other than sleep.

I fold my arms in displeasure; so _boring!_ There's nothing to do here...I could probably venture out of the room though, couldn't I? Everyone's occupied downstairs, they shouldn't catch me...I'll just go out to the hallway, maybe sit on the stairs and listen to what's going on down there...I'll be able to do that, right?

The quiet murmur of dinner conversation greets me as I step cautiously out of the room. I sit by the stairs, propped up against the wall and out of sight as I listen in to Jaden's parents:

"Heavens, what a long day it's been. I could swear the trains are getting slower each time I go on."

There's a laugh from Jaden; I can't tell if it's faked or not, "Really? How long did it take?"

"A good few hours, I should think. Still, we had a television in our carriage, so it wasn't bad...sweetie, stop playing with your food. Really, you seem awfully jittery about something - are you _sure_ you're not ill?"

"I'm fine Mom, stop worrying," A frantic reassurance - well, at least I know he hasn't forgotten about me, "So what were you watching? Was it a good movie?"

"Movie? Nah, it was just a regular news channel. A flood, increasing house prices, all very dull - oh wait, but there was that story about the boy on the run."

Freeze. A chill runs straight up my spine and lifts the hairs on the back of my neck Muscles tensed, fists curled up, nausea churning in my stomach. They can't mean...?

"Oh yes, I remember that," The Mother's voice chimes in, "Where did he escape from again? Was it prison?"

"A mental asylum, I think."

Fuck fuck fuckityfuckfuckfuck, they're talking about _me_. Ohmyfuckinglord, they've seen the news report, they know who I am. If they find me I won't be able to lie my way out of it, they'll know exactly who I am and they'll hand me straight over to the police...

"A 15 year-old in a mental asylum, what is the world coming to...and quite a high-security one by the looks of things. How on earth did they let him get away so easily?"

"You'd think they'd pay attention in a place like that. I've heard of Pandora before...it's for the seriously crazy people - they put them in there when they're too much of a handful for anywhere else."

Too much, it's too much...I struggle to drag myself upright, my legs shaking too badly to support me. Every inch of skin is ashen white and clammy with cold sweat; it's me they're talking about, me. But I'm not crazy, I'm _not_...

"And one of them has escaped?! Heavens, I hope they catch him soon before he hurts someone. I expect he's probably prowling around one of the big cities...just as well we live in a remote area, huh?"

Please, I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy...my hands won't grip the wall, they slide off uselessly...I'm not crazy, why won't you believe me?! Why won't _anyone_ believe me?!

"Well I doubt he'd come all the way out here...Jaden, what's wrong? You look as though you've seen a ghost."

"I just-" A thud, two gasps and the sound of chairs scraping as they run to help him. I hear one 'I think he's fainted!' but nothing more as I stagger numbly into Jaden's bedroom and towards the wardrobe.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry...I know I promised I'd stay, but I _can't_..." I whisper - to him or to myself? - as I grab clothes and stuff them into a bag. There's no way I can stay here, not after hearing that; they know who I am, they know _what_ I am and what I've done. And given that Jaden's struggling to keep a lid on his anxiety, it's only a matter of time before they figure out I'm here. They'll throw me back to the police. Back to Pandora. Back to Adams.

There's a notepad on the floor with it's first page covered in doodles. I rip it out and poise pen against paper, only to pause; what to put down? I can't leave without goodbye or some sort of explanation...should I tell him where I'm going? But even _I_ don't know where I'm going next...I'll just have to hide. Hide and wait.

_I've taken the decision to leave-_ No wait, that doesn't sound right. _I'm sorry- _Sorry for what? For a lot of things, too many to list, not enough time..._Thank you for your hospitality-_ No no no, too formal! It makes it sound like a hotel or something...Jesus Christ, what do I put? I'm no good at this sentimental stuff. It's not fair, there are people who can write soppy poems to someone they don't even _know_, yet I can't write a word to the one person that I...that I...

Then it's there. A brief memory, something mentioned in passing - but it all becomes so clear. Suddenly I know exactly where I'm going to go next, what I'm going to do. But I'm not going to tell Jaden. Still, I should leave him something:

_Don't worry_.

I hesitate; I want to put more, but I still don't know what to say. There's a fair bit of noise from downstairs, the sound of Jaden trying to calm two frantic parents. I hear the words 'I'm fine' and 'take a nap'. He's coming up here, probably to see me. I could wait for him...then I'll be able to say a proper goodbye, not just hastily scribbled notes on a page...just a few more minutes...

No. He'll never let me leave. He'll persuade me again with his desperate words and his warm embrace, and like a fool I'll let myself me swayed. But I can't do that - for the sake of us both, I have to go. He'll never be safe as long as I'm here.

The window seems to open like butter. The drainpipe is cold, but I slide down easily and land on the soft white ground. And then I run.

It's not until I reach the small path to the train station that I stop for breath. Looking back, I see the heavy snow already masking my footprints; it covers me as well, so soft and yet so bitterly cold against my skin. There's a hooded top in the bag, so I pull it on and zip it all the way up to my chin. It doesn't keep me particularly warm, but the hood covers my hair and face nicely.

It's not even a train _station_, really, just a platform with a ticket machine; there's just enough money in my pocket to reach my stop. The train arrives in five minutes, blissfully empty, and I curl up in a corner against the window. Just over the hill I can see Jaden's house; more specifically, I can see the brunet figure hastily climbing out of the window. He slips and lands on the ground in an ungraceful heap, but soon picks himself up and runs frantically away from the house.

"Chazz! Chazz!" I can't actually hear him, of course. But I can imagine the desperate, panicked cry that tears from his throat, barely heard over the whistling winter gale. The footprints have faded, and now all that's left is pure, brilliant white. He falls to his knees and punches an angry, hurt fist into the ground; it feels like it's slammed straight into my gut. I think I hear him scream, but it's just the screech of the rails as the train starts to move. The last I see of him is a figure kneeling in the snow, body shuddering as he buries his face in his hands.

* * *

Aha...ha...yeah...I have a tendency to twist the story at the last minute, it wouldn't be the first time. Erm, don't kill me? 


	16. Anamnesis

If you haven't already seen it on my profile, I'd like to announce that Delirium is coming to a close; the next chapter will be the last one. I've already decided on a suitable ending; it's kind of...vague, so you'll have to decide what to make of it. I've decided _not_ to write any extra chapters (like Dr Adams' POV) because, as intriguing as it sounds, it'll detract from the story.

**Warnings:** Swearing and a few gory images…that's about it.

**Coco Gash Jirachi:** Oh but I adore evil counterparts, they're always so much fun. I mean, it's always more fun to write someone when they have a lot of faults (like being an egomaniacal, selfish, spoilt, bratty pseudo-emo for example…but I still love him!)

**Koneko Mikagami:** The last chapter wasn't _bad_, per say, but it needed a bit of refining, I think; still, it's good to know it's better now (helps mop up nosebleed).

**natasuki: **Well it wasn't that much of a twist - he had to leave Jaden eventually, I suppose. I just didn't think it'd be quite so..._angsty_.

**Katastrophic Melt Down:** Yeah, it made me feel pretty sad as well. I should really try to write something from Jaden's POV, just to see what his take is on having Chazz around and then discovering he's left.

**Holy Virgin:** I think when you're writing anything about mental illness, unless you've actually been through it yourself, you need to research – a _lot_. Trust me, I have a whole file of related research on my computer for this story. That fic of yours sounds interesting (although Chazz with depression is hard to pull off without making him sound emo and OOC) but you'll need to do some thorough research to make it convincing.

**Garnet-Crystals: **Yeah, it happens a lot...but I suppose being unpredictable is a good thing, right?

**shindou-colgan:** Well, you'll find out just where he plans to go in this chapter...

**pinkberry:** I'm afraid you being depressed isn't going to make me update any faster (hands you tissues) Here, I've still got some left from all the prior nosebleeds.

**Littlest-Angel:** My goodness, you're practically a cameo! You know, I never even noticed that bit about the channels until I read through it again - it really _does_ flow like a messed-up story. And yuppers, Jaden takes care of Chazz, Chazz repays him with insults, anger and occasional abuse...doncha' just love their relationship?

I'd bribe the animators to make me a Chazz-themed show if I had the money...but sadly I don't.

* * *

Delirium, part sixteen (Anamnesis)

The image stays with me.

A man drops by and asks to see my ticket. He notes how pale my hand is when I show it to him and says maybe I should buy some hot chocolate to warm up. I tell him he can't afford it. He gives me a friendly smile, disappears for a minute, then comes back with a steaming plastic cup.

"Are you all by yourself?" He asks kindly. I nod. "Be careful, okay? There are a lot of dangerous people out there, especially in winter," And then he leaves.

I wonder how he'd react if he knew who he was actually speaking to; according to the news, I'm _one of_ those dangerous people. Am I dangerous? I suppose I must be to have come where I am now; to have landed in Pandora and gotten back out again. To have survived on the streets, if barely – a harmless person wouldn't have made it. Safe, warm houses are designed for harmless people, not the cold, harsh streets.

I grip my hot chocolate in both hands, watching the dull brown surface ripple with the train's vibrations. When I bring it to my lips, it's too hot and too sweet. It reminds me of Jaden, and I feel a pang of regret in my chest. But I can't feel that way – this is for the best, I know it is. We' only be discovered, then I'd go back to Pandora and he'd be in trouble for hiding me – he could even go to jail for that kind of thing.

Still…maybe I should've waited to say goodbye…

_No!_ I made the right choice, I know I did. Jaden's too optimistic, he doesn't see what can and _will_ go wrong – that's up to me. I have to take the right option for both of us. No turning back now, I have to keep looking forwards. And right now there's only one last thing for me to do…

The falling snow fades as the train reaches the city, replaced with frosted windows and dark grey slush in the street. The icy wind nips at me as I step off the train, attacking whatever bared skin it can reach; I shiver and wrap my arms around myself, not merely against the cold but against the nauseous churn in my stomach. There's so many people here, hurrying about their daily business, running from train to train…it'd be so easy for someone to recognise me and call the police, to have me thrown back in Pandora…

But no-one notices. The guard seems suspicious at the ticket barrier, but waves me through regardless. I pass coffee shops and dry cleaners until I'm outside, into the cold, crisp air.

My feet automatically carry me to a taxi rank; after all, you can't catch a bus to where I'm going, and it's too far to walk. I get straight into a sleek black cab and request the driver take me to the very edge of the city.

"That's quite a long way away," He warns, "It won't be cheap."

"I have plenty of money," I answer dismissively – and with where I'm going, he doesn't doubt my word. It's half-true at least; I have money, only it's in a frozen bank account, and my pockets are currently empty.

…Still, he doesn't need to know that.

I don't know how long it takes – everything becomes a daze of time and colour as I stare out of the window, watching the progressively larger houses flash by. It's only when the car comes to a halt that I realise I've arrived at my destination, one of the many empty avenues in the area.

"This'll do, yeah?" The taxi driver tells me, "That'll be-"

"Sorry," I interrupt, and clasp my hands over his nose and mouth.

You'd be surprised how easy it is to suffocate someone in a car, especially when their seatbelt stops them from moving. I let go when his struggles stop and his face starts turning blue; I don't want to kill him after all, just make him pass out. And then it's straight out of the car, running down the pavement before he comes around.

It's just as well the place is empty, everyone locked away in their safe, warm houses as harmless people should be. I slow down to a jog as I reach my objective; those tall, oppressive iron gates I know so well. A numbered code punched into the security box, and they unlock with a loud click, allowing me to step inside. Normally there'd be someone to open the gates for any cars, but all the staff are absent. Why?

Christmas, of course. In retrospect, I probably couldn't have come at a better time.

I stroll down the long gravel pathway, fully aware of the security cameras catching my every move; I know there's no-one to watch. A gardener or maid may have stuck around to keep the place in order, but otherwise it's completely abandoned. Perfect.

"Home sweet home," I sigh, walking up to the grand entrance of the house. There are a few cars in the driveway, but I'm fairly certain their owners are still at work. I bend down to the plant pot where I know Jagger keeps a spare set of keys, and retrieve them to let myself inside the Princeton manor.

The first thing my eyes fall on is the priceless vase displayed at the end of the hall. I can't help but snort; of course, the first priority is to show off your wealth. The door is closed and locked, shoes wiped vigorously on the doormat so as not to leave footprints. I pad softly down the well-lit entrance hall, grabbing another set of keys on the way as I stroll from room to room. Sitting room…drawing room…music room…games room…erm, other sitting room…something room…I don't even _know _what that one's for…

I go through the kitchen, the dining-room, straight through the patio doors and into the garden. They're never locked…you'd think they would be, but the back garden is practically a fortress. It's not like the front, all fountains ad shaped hedges designed to show off; no, this garden is hidden from view by the tall fences, topped with curling barbed wire to warn any would-be intruders.

It's been a while…

Mama used to come here. I think. It's been that long that I hardly remember anymore. How many years – ten? Longer? But it's coming back, piece by piece. Walking down here with her, watching her long black hair catch the light, wrinkling my nose at the scent of red roses…it wasn't so strong back then, but now it's dizzyingly overpowering. They're everywhere, flooding the grass like a tidal wave of scarlet…

I don't like roses. She didn't either. Hated them, in fact. She called them insignificant.

And yet…there were roses at her funeral. Dozens of them, swarming the ground just like the do here. Everyone brought red roses, all the rich people who didn't know her and pretended to be sad because they had nothing better to do. They never cared about her – otherwise they would've brought carnations. She _hated_ roses.

I kick at the cluster of roses moodily, watching crimson petals scatter into the wind. It took me hours to clear all the roses from her grave; I'd clear the garden too, if I had the time, but a glance at the clock back inside tells me I only have so long. Hurrying away from the sea of flowers, I head towards the dingy shed near the bottom of the lawn, where the gardener keeps all his tools. With any luck I'll be able to find what I'm after…

* * *

It's nearing five o' clock by the time I'm finished – which means, it being winter, that it's fairly dark outside. Still, there should be enough time for one last visit…

My feet carry me through the halls, up the stairs and along a route I know only too well. Even if I shut my eyes I'd till be able to find it; and sure enough I'm here in no time at all, the directions permanently burned into my memory. Here, outside the tall wooden door – _her_ door.

Ten years…

The place has changed, and yet it hasn't. The air is different, the flowers in the vase – fucking _roses_ – have been replaced, and yet there's still so many traces of her. The room is cold, but I can still feel her feverish warmth. The sheets are clean, but I can still see the bloodstains. If I close my eyes, I can hear the ripple of white silk, so close I could reach out and grasp it…

I take my first few cautious steps into the room; I've been here a million times before, so why does it feel like I'm trespassing? Maybe because this isn't her room anymore – it's _a_ room, another decorative feature and possibly a guest room if we were pushed for space. Everything's been cleaned, replaced, swept away until it seems like no-one ever lived here. To anyone else, maybe, but not me. I can still remember everything.

_I _remember that bed, now so clean and orderly, but once in chaos as she writhed and thrashed amongst the sheets. _I_ remember those pillows, lying there innocently, once damp with blood and sweat. And _I_ remember the air, now silent, once filled with sickness and screaming and panic and _death_-

And she's gone. Laid there like a statue, cold and unmoving. It's a wonder they didn't put her up for display like every other fucking thing in this house.

And father followed shortly afterwards…he slept here as well, didn't he? He must've done – it wasn't her room, it was _their_ room. And yet I never once saw him here – or much at all, really. He was almost a stranger to me; I don't even know how he died. I don't particularly care either.

It's _her_ room. And even though she's long gone, I can still feel her.

And hear her.

And smell her. Roses and blood.

The clock in the corridor chimes suddenly, carrying soft music through the open door. Five times. And unless they've been waylaid for some reason, they'll be-

-Completely on-schedule. A key clicks in the lock downstairs, door opening to the sound of two pairs of footsteps entering the hall. The door is closed, coats are hung up, voices grumble about servants not being here to do all this for them. And then the footsteps fade away towards the kitchen. They're home.

I retreat from Mama's bedroom, closing the door gently behind me. I tread silently down the carpeted hall, skilfully making my way down the stairs as I avoid the creaky steps. I'm not too worried about being seen – I know their routines down to every last minute by now. Arrive home together at five, hang up coats, make their way to the kitchen, pour themselves a glass of whiskey each before settling down in the main sitting room to discuss this and that. The same rigid structure every day, almost a ritual in it's precision. Only today I'm going to change everything.

I stroll quite casually into the main sitting room, listening carefully for their muffled conversation, still complaining about the servants taking time off. I can finally lower my hood and relax back onto the sofa, arms spread out luxuriously as I wait for them to arrive. The footsteps get louder, the door opens, and-

Slade is the first one to see me. The whiskey glass slips from his hand and shatters upon contact with the floor, amber-brown liquid soaking into the expensive carpet. Jagger manages to keep a hold on his, setting it down rather rapidly on a nearby table; the alcohol sloshes about, but remains inside the glass.

"Welcome home," I utter softly, waiting for them to reply. Slade stares at me in shock until he's coherent enough to form an answer:

"Chazz…?"

* * *

Dun-dun-DUN! A little short compared to the other chapters, but I reckon it'll do. As I said before, the next chapter will be the last one, and then that's it! It's over! Finished!


	17. Desuetude

Here it is, the final chapter of Delirium. For specific reasons, I'm not going to put a note at the end of this chapter, so I'll say it now: this has been a joy to write, and I hope a joy to read. I almost gave up on the story early on, but your encouragement kept me going - so to all those who reviewed, thank you. The ending is...weird, but suitable, I think. Again, thank you and enjoy the last chapter of the story!

**Warnings:** That'd give it away...

Dangnabit, I'm gonna have to start using the 'review reply' feature; responding to all these alone adds about a thousand words to the chapter length...

**Coco Gash Jirachi:** Alas, I doubt Jaden will save Chazz-wazzy-bo-bazzy-fee-fi-fo-fum-fazzy-Chazzy now...especially when he has no idea where Chazz is.

**Seto's Nice Girl:** Well, you'll just have to wait and see what he got from the shed...and damn right they're scared! You would be too if your violent lunatic of a brother (whom _you drove crazy_) was sitting on your couch casual as you please. But it'll make some good interaction, no?

**Koneko Mikagami:** Rest assured, Chazz wouldn't go home without a very good reason...which you'll find out in this chapter.

**Zeblock626:** Thank you! I hope you enjoy the last chapter!

**natasuki:** Yeah, since the last chapter was nothing but reflection and reminiscence, I figured too long a chapter would make everyone fall asleep! There's more Mama Princeton coming up, and hopefully you'll all get a clearer picture about her and her life.

**luv-bbz:** Thanks! I only hope it meets up to your expectations.

**Yami's Chan:** Aah! I can only update so fast, you know!

**iFlare:** Ah wait, are you Holy Virgin? Don't worry too much about your story, just make sure to do as much research as possible into symptoms, cures, etc. Mental illness is difficult to do well, but keep at it! (Gah, I sound like Jaden giving a pep talk...)

**Garnet-Crystals:** Yeah, it was kinda obvious that Chazz would go back to confront his brothers...but the question is, how will it turn out in the end?

**I'm in Bishie Heaven:** To be honest, I'm not entirely sure where I got the idea - I just got to thinking how little time Chazz and Jaden had left, and how that might drive someone as instable as Chazz back into a relapse. But really, I can't think what inspired it.

**highmode:** Thank you! Hopefully the ending will be satisfactory...

**Katastrophic Melt Down:** Mm, I was going to have him go back to his own room - and maybe visit Jagger and Slade's rooms as well. But the thing about reminiscing drabble...you gotta keep it short. Too much meandering thoughts and the readers get bored.

**K. Furi:** Erm...I take it you like it then?

**shindou-colgan:** I'm kinda reluctant to end the story as well...but in some ways, I'm also relieved that it's finally over, especially after putting so much effort into the final product.

**Silver Lazurite:** Oh my...thank you! It's not often that I receive reviews as detailed as this, and it always puts a smile on my face. I put so much effort into this story, so I'm glad to see it's paid off...unfortunately though, this will be the last GX story I'll write in a while (I'm moving on to the Final Fantasy fandoms).

**IceFlake 77:** Gyah, Desert Rain (shudders) Compared to my writing now it just seems so…_cliché_.

**Pineapplecat:** I'm sorry...I'm so terrible with updates...

**starchain:** Well I can't promise it won't be _entirely_ angsty...and thanks for all the reviews! Despite what I said at the start, the story still ended up a romance, huh?

**Kitty:** Argh, I wish you'd left an email address…all good points, allow me to respond to them: I agree with the thing about Chazz, I've given him OCD when he's pretty much a slob in he anime, my bad! But seeing his sparkly-neat room and how perfectionist he is with his appearance (like his hair – come on, he must spend hours on that thang), he just struck me as the fussy neat-freak type. As for the lack o' hymen…that wasn't what I was referring to when the man remarked that Chazz wasn't a virgin. I figured he probably saw/felt some scarring or bruising (which I imagine is hard to avoid, given how, um, delicate that area is…especially because Adams wasn't fabulously gentle, and Chazz remarks how much it hurts – when done properly, there shouldn't be any pain). So anyway…thanks for all the comments! I'm glad to know the hallucinations worked well, I put so much effort into those, especially in chapter 12…plus I'm glad the fluff wasn't annoying (I like fluff, but I hate it when it gets too sickly-sweet, y'know?)

I don't own yugioh GX. I _do_ own Mama Princeton, though, so don't steal her.

* * *

Delirium, part seventeen (Desuetude)

"Yeah, it's me," I stare at them, waiting for a reaction; all they can do is gawk wordlessly, "What, no hug? Not even a 'hello' for you dearest little bro?"

"H-how..." Jagger looks positively horrified, "How did you get here...?"

I give my trademark smirk; "I broke in, of course. Heh, Christmas Day...the one day all the staff stay at home to celebrate with family. Perfect time for an intrusion, don't you think? A nice little family reunion too," I laugh, albeit with bitterness, "Although...I'd have thought you would keep at least _some_ security guards around, given how worried you were that I'd come and find you. The reward issued for my capture was proof enough of that."

"You've had access to television," Slade frowns.

"Television is everywhere," I roll my eyes, "But yeah, I have. From the comfort of a nice living room with a patient friend. It helps to have connections."

"You're meant to be in-"

"Pandora mental asylum?" I interrupt calmly, "I'm sure you would've happily let me rot in there. Nothing quite like sweeping problem dust under the rug, is there?"

"You only got three years," Slade answers furiously, "You should've been in there for life. You tried to _kill_ me and Jagger and you only got _three years_-"

"Please, like they would've let me out at 18!" I snap back, to my own surprise. I've never been able to talk back to Slade, not ever... "It didn't take long to figure out that they planned to keep me there indefinitely. And even if they didn't, you would've found your way of bribing them. You wanted me gone for good, didn't you? You probably would've killed me if you thought you could get away with it."

"We looked after you," Jagger hisses menacingly, "We brought you up when we could've abandoned you, and in return you _attacked _us-"

"That was retaliation for everything you did to me," I sneer back with just as much venom, "You want me to be grateful to you - for what? Years of coldness and abuse? You never showed me one _ounce_ of kindness-"

"You don't deserve it," Slade cuts in, "You've never done anything to earn our affection-"

"I shouldn't have to _earn_ it!"

"-When Jagger and I have worked hard to get successful, respectable jobs and you've done nothing," Slade continues loudly, as though he hasn't heard me, "You don't deserve love from us, from anyone, from Mother-"

"Mother," My eyes widen; I think I've found the source of the problem, "This is what it all comes down to, isn't it? You're jealous because Mama-"

"_Don't_ call her that," Jagger snarls, hands clenched into white-knuckle fists and shoulders tense with anger, "You have no right-"

"Because _Mama_," I say again, "Loved me. You never called her 'Mama', did you? That was for a reason. You were never close to her like I was."

"She never loved us," Slade states bitterly; in the background, Jagger's eyes haze at the memory, "We worked so hard for her...ploughed into our studies, mastered whole languages, surpassed people years older than us...and she didn't care. But _you_," His tone becomes vehement, eyes livid as he glares at me, "All you had to do was _smile_ and she was yours! She spent all her time with you, locked away in that damn nursery, keeping you from everyone-"

"You don't think there's a reason?" I glower, "She knew this would happen; what you'd do to me, what you'd turn into. You're exactly like Father!"

"That's because she left us with him," Jagger's tone drops low and sinister, "I used to hate him for what he did to her, to us...but I understand now. She deserved everything she got just as much as you do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A throaty chuckle, "Dear Chazz, you're so naive. Do you picture her as some sort of martyr? Newsflash: she wasn't as innocent as you seem to think. She never showed any love to Father throughout their marriage; in fact, she never loved him in the first place."

It slowly begins to dawn on me what he's saying - _I married a man for all the wrong reasons_, "No..."

"Yes," Jagger continues almost gleefully, "She was a fucking gold digger, Chazzie. The moment she had her hands on his bank account, she stopped pretending to love him. She made him into a monster."

"That's not true," I shake my head furiously, "I won't believe it!"

"It is true," Slade smirks, "The guilt drove her insane in the end. That, and she was so possessive of you that she neglected her own health. Father said good riddance, she deserved to die. But he still loved her enough to take his own life three months later."

"Your fault too, I might add," Jagger declares, "Even after she was gone, you reminded him of her - he couldn't stand the sight of you. And he was right," He narrows his eyes at me; I know he's comparing me to his memory of Mama, "You really are exactly like her. Just as graceful, just as captivating...just as selfish, ungrateful and spoilt. You've always had everything handed to you on a silver platter; you don't know the meaning of hardship."

"Don't I?" I try to keep calm, but my voice still trembles with anger, "Maybe I used to be that way, before all of this...but I've changed. Ever since Pandora...do you have any idea what it was like in there?"

"What, did they not fluff up your cushions enough for you?" Slade sneers, and I clench my fists to keep me from lashing out.

"It was hell," I intone softly, dangerously, "You thought I was crazy when I attacked you? That was nothing. But being in there drove me to the very brink of madness. And even after I risked everything to escape?" I laugh humorlessly, "Let me tell you about hardship, _brother_. It's living on the streets and sleeping with the rats. It's not eating anything for five days straight. It's being fucking _raped_ in an alleyway with no strength to fight back. Your suffering is _nothing_ compared to what I've been through."

Slade snorts; "You're lying. You already said you stayed with a friend."

"After living it rough for a while, yeah. But even then I still had hallucinations and drug withdrawal. You can't even fathom what that's like," I narrow my eyes at him, "But no matter what I went through...surely you knew I'd find a way to see you again?"

"And do what, exactly?"

"Finish what I started, of course," I reply simply, "That was always my intention, dearest bro, even if I had to wait three years to do it. But luckily I'm here ahead of schedule."

There's a pause, then Jagger says: "I'm calling the police."

"I've disconnected the phone lines," I tell him lightly, reaching over to a small box resting on a nearby end table, "I prepared carefully this, of course. Can I have a cigarette, by the way?"

"What - why-"

"Always wanted to see what it was like. Plus, now I'm here I might as well enjoy the moment," I shrug and take a cigarette from the box, calmly picking up the lighter; from the corner of my eye I can see them staring at me incredulously, not sure how to react, "Never really understood what you saw in them, though...now where were we? Oh yes. I've considered quite a number of ways to kill you since that day at Duel Academy."

Slade gives a laugh; meant to intimidate, but I can hear how strained it is, "You really are fucking crazy, aren't you?"

"Your doing, bro," I take a controlled inhalation of smoke and blow it out in serpentine coils. Nope, still can't see the enjoyment in it. Tastes kinda nasty too, "If you claim a lack of love made Father into a monster...maybe you should've realised I would turn out the same way. I won't have any regrets when I kill you."

"I'm getting out of here," Jagger mutters, voice quiet but still distinctly nervous,

"I locked all the main doors," I call out before he can leave the room, "The windows too. Plus I turned off the security system and disabled the smoke alarms."

"The smoke alarms?" Slade frowns.

"Oh them," I smirk, "You won't be needing them anymore."

And I flick my lit cigarette at the floor.

It starts immediately; flames rise up and follow a fast trail across the carpeted floor, underneath the doors and into all the next rooms. I stand up just as the cough is set on fire, whistling at the speed of the inferno whilst my brothers look around in panic.

"What - how-" Slade splutters, for once not in control of his emotions, "How is it spreading so quickly?!"

"Gasoline," I grin, "Amazing what you can find in a shed, isn't it? I knew we had a spare cannister somewhere, so I spread it all over the place."

"Are you insane?!" Jagger howls, and shoves the door behind him open. He's met with roaring flames, but rushes through anyway, shouting futilely for help.

"That's already been established," I say casually, hands in pockets. Slade stares at me in disbelief.

"You do realise," He says slowly, "That you're locked in here with us? If we die, you do as well."

"You think that changes anything?" I laugh again, "I'm penniless, homeless and on the run from the entire world. I have nothing to lose."

"I should've gotten rid of you when I had the chance," Slade mutters before running through another door and towards the back entrance through the kitchen.

"I wouldn't go that way," I whisper. Not a second later, a great explosion rocks the entire house, which drowns out Slade's cry of agony, "I turned the gas cooker on in the kitchen. Should speed up the process."

I stroll through to the hallway, past angry orange flames and thickening black smoke. I think I can hear fire engines somewhere...somebody must've seen the flames and called the emergency services. But it doesn't matter now - the gate is locked, and they'll never reach the house on time. Rather than dwell on it, I watch a nearby vase of roses catch alight, the fire blackening the delicate red petals. Ironic, I muse, and turn to see a mirror at the end of the corridor. I can just make out the kimono-clad woman staring back at me mournfully, red staining her white robe and mouth.

"I'm sorry," I call out to her softly, "I broke my promise to you...I became like them, for a while. But it's time to finish this - for good this time."

She doesn't reply, of course. The heat and light of the flames hurts my eyes, causing them to sting with tears; I see a blur of white, and when my vision clears again, she's gone; but in her place is a brunet boy kneeling in the crisp snow, crying into his palms.

"Jaden..." I mouth soundlessly. Maybe...maybe I lied when I told Slade I had nothing to lose. There's just one thing I regret leaving behind.

...And then it strikes me what I should've put on my goodbye note to Jaden. Three words. Eight letters. Although really, I think he already knew. I hope so.

The image of Jaden fades away, and all that's left is a pale, wistful-looking boy, smudged black from the smoke. The flames are getting closer, consuming everything, but I don't feel any pain. All I can hear is the roaring fire, the wailing sirens...and underneath it all, barely audible, a muttered promise of compassion in my ear. The reflection in the mirror smiles before the smog overpowers me; I barely feel my legs buckle and the impact of the floor as everything dissolves into brilliant orange, then crimson, then black...

* * *

And my eyes snap open.

There's light, so much light, light everywhere. Holy Jesus, did I make it into heaven? But something's not right - the light hurts, burns even, making my head throb and buzz with pain. It's too much, but it's so utterly _bright_ that I can't look away; slowly it dims down, and I can make out a blur of...soft pink? Yes, I think it is. I feel a cool wall against my back, linoleum under my feet. Heaven has linoleum? That can't be right. Where am I? _Where am I?_

"What's that noise?" Comes a female voice, and then: "Oh my God!"

God? Who's God? Is he here? Your God or my God? My God has- what? White robe, red mouth, black hair. White, red, black, white, red, black, whiteredblack...

"Somebody get the doctor, quick!" Someone runs over to me, but I can't see them, just the light. Two hands, one on my arm and one on my face, forcing me to look up; "Chazz? Chazz, can you hear me? Stay with us, don't drift away now..."

Drift where? I was drifting...through an ocean of...moron fish? And then they sang and - fish don't sing - what am I saying? Where am I? The light's fading, don't go away...I look down and see that I'm wearing white. White. _White_.

Pandora.

"_NO!_" This isn't - this can't be - I'm back in Pandora?! But I can't be, I escaped, I _escaped!_ Didn't I?! Maybe I didn't. Maybe I never left. Maybe I dreamt it all. Was that it? Was it all a dream?!

"What's going on?" A doctor arrives; I cease my struggles, tensing up for fear of blue eyes and cold hands. . But instead I see a different man, brown eyes behind rimless glasses. Not Adams. Not Adams?

"This...isn't Pandora," I whisper in realisation, looking around the room - pink walls, not white. Different doctor, different nurses. Somewhere else, a hospital unit? "Wait...you're not going to send me back there are you? _Are you?!_"

"I'll handle this," The doctor tells the nurse, who nods and backs off, the man kneeling in her place, "Chazz, can you hear me? Can you see me?"

"I don't want to go back," I tell him, terrified, "Please, please don't send me back there! Don't put me back in Pandora!"

"Chazz..." The doctor says quzzically, "What are you talking about? There's no such place as Pandora."

"No such place...?" I frown, "But I was there! And then I escaped...and went to...Jaden...Jaden? Jaden! Where's Jaden?!"

"I'm sorry," The doctor shakes his head, "There's no-one called 'Jaden' here. I've never heard of that person."

No Pandora...no Jaden...just what is going on? Was it all real, or did I just dream it up? Did I dream _Jaden_ up? "I don't...I don't understand what's going on..."

The man adjusts his glasses, "It's okay. You've just woken up, I'm sure you must be very confused."

"Woken up?" From what?

His voice turns soft; "You were gone for a long time, Chazz, in some far away place...but you're back now, and we can work on getting you better. I'm going to start with a quick checkup, okay? Will you let me take your pulse?"

I barely realise I've nodded my head and I don't even feel him take my wrists. Everything's jumbled inside my head; what the hell is going on? Pandora isn't real, never was...was it just my imagination? And what about Jaden, is he real? Did _he_ ever exist?

Wait...is _this_ real? What if this is all just a dream, right now? What if _I'm_ a dream? Do I exist? I look at the doctor's silver nametag - silver, not gold - but I can't make out the words, just carved squiggles that my brain won't comprehend. But I can see my reflection - sickly pale skin and darkly shadowed eyes; said eyes are wide and bloodshot, the pupils impossibly small. Lips sore and cracked, as though they've bled a few times.

Is that me? Is that my existence?

_"Long term patient, Chazz Princeton..."_

I look up at my name, distant like an old television; at the doorway is two nurses, the one from earlier and a younger, curious-looking newbie peering into my room.

_"Brought in six years ago...this is the first time he's responded properly to anyone, or anything..."_

_"What happened to him?"_

_"He's been in a permanent vegetative state; they think he was brain-damaged from all the smoke inhalation..."_

_"Smoke?"_

_"There was a fire...house completely burnt to the ground, his two brothers were killed..."_

Brothers. Killed. Fire. So it _was _real? I remember the smoke, the flames, the burning petals. Noise, heat, light, all too much. But I started that fire, didn't I? For what Jagger and Slade did to me, for landing me in Pandora...so it_ must_ be real! Isn't it? What's going on? I don't know. Do you know? Tell me!

"Chazz, who are you talking to?"

I look up into concerned brown eyes, "What? Them."

"Them?"

"Them. They're...you know, _them_," I gesture awkwardly, "You can't see them? They're right there."

His voice is quiet, worried, "There's no-one there, Chazz."

"Of course there is," I look around nervously, "You...you really can't see them? They're just there." They're real, they must be...you're real, aren't you?

"Don't worry Chazz," The doctor assures me, "I know everything's mixed up, but we're going to sort it out. You'll be better in no time."

"But I'm not sick! I'm _not!_" I insist, then freeze when he produces a full needle, "Wh-what are you doing?! I don't want any!"

"Ssh, it's okay. It's just to help you relax," He takes my arm before I can protest. An almost instant sense of calm washes over me when the needle goes in, every muscle in my body relaxing into soft, blissful rest. Suddenly everything's so tranquil, so settled and utterly serene. I can't feel the floor or walls anymore; I'm just...floating...

"There we go," I can barely hear the doctor's voice, soft and subdued, "I'm going to start helping you now, okay? Just listen to my voice and relax...I want you to put yourself in a happy place, somewhere you feel safe and secure...are you there?"

"I...I think..." Everything's so peaceful. Soft grass tickling my skin, a cloudless sunset sky over my head, forever a dusky orange. So...perfect...

"I want you to feel everything, even the very air," And I can, a soft summer breeze playing through my hair, "The light, the warmth...can you feel that Chazz? Feel it surrounding you?"

"Mm..." Is all I can manage. So warm, so comfortable...arms resting around my waist and a wordless murmur in my ear; I can taste chocolate and smell...cinnamon...

"Are you completely relaxed now, Chazz?" I can just muster a nod, "Now listen carefully...I want to you to shake all those confusing thoughts free; we'll start a fresh new start from scratch. No anger, no turmoil, no 'them' inside your head. Just you."

"Just me..."

"Now I'm going to start counting backwards from five, and when I reach zero, you're going to wake up, and you'll have left all this behind you. Ready?" His voice is everywhere, filling me to my core; I can't hear anything else, not even you, "Five...four...three...two...one..."

-END-


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